


Is it thy will thy image should keep open my heavy eyelids to the weary night?

by Anonymous



Category: JBJ (Band), MXM (Band), Produce 101 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Gen, Slow Burn, bnm boys are side characters but they appear a lot, implied SoTaed and SoGyun in later chapters, it's mostly friendship fic, ngl this thing basically has no plot despite how long it is, there's also seonho and a few other kids who pop up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-09 10:43:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14714552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Kenta moves to a new town.This was originally written for jbj fic fest. The prompt (that I kinda failed to stick to, lol) was,"A moves to a small town, finds part-time work in a cafe and ends up in a bright flower shop run by mysterious B, brotherly C, childish D, loud E, proud but sensitive F, tsundere H because D left his wallet in a cafe. Have his life turn upside down because of them."





	1. プロローグ ~ ようこそ

At the train station, Kenta has enough time to buy a sandwich and coffee milk from the crowded convenience store before he has to dash down the street to catch his connecting bus. There are sleek double-deckers taking tourists and serious looking business men away to the larger cities and resorts. Beyond them, ducking through throngs of people and around hawkers selling newspapers and umbrellas and boxed lunches, are older buses going to towns Kenta has uniformly never heard of. He finds his - a hulk with faded purple paint and grimy windows - and gets in line behind an older gent hauling four huge boxes of pickled plums. 

It's drizzling. Summer has faded away. He dozes on the uncomfortable journey, but doesn't dream. That old man is having a conversation with someone about how he's planning to sell the plums. Their accent is strong and difficult for Kenta to understand. He wonders if everyone'll speak that way where he's going. Will his employees speak like that? He hopes not - he's been in Korea long enough, he doesn't want to have to go back to playing the dumb foreigner. He plays a song in his head and tunes them out.

When they arrive in town, it's dusk. There's still some light in the sky, but filtered through the heavy clouds everything is grey and muted. Light rain falls silently over brown, low-rise buildings with fungus on the sides and businesses with fading signs - multiple mechanics, a car dealers, a noraebang with flashing lights and a mermaid painted on the door, a wooden sign pointing out a garden centre with a sale on pesticides...The town so far looks dingy and shabby. 

Finally, they pull into the bus station. It's a two-storey building, rounded and silver and hard for Kenta's eyes to lock onto in the half-light. It's obviously newly built. Construction equipment still litters the back entrance and the concrete path around it gleams like white quartz. Kenta pours off the bus with everyone else and waits for a chance to pull his one suitcase out from the hold. He's too quiet - or, perhaps, broadcasts his foreignness even with barely saying a word. The locals shove in front of him as if he weren't there. In the end, his is the last case there and the driver asks him accusingly why on earth he didn't say anything sooner. Kenta thanks him and shambles away to find a taxi. 

By the time he's in a taxi, it's already dark. Kenta has little idea what they're passing, what route the driver is taking him. He's a plump man in a brown leather jacket with greasy fleece on the collar and cuffs. 

"Lee Insoo's place is it?" the man asks. Kenta nods enthusiastically. He's never met Insoo. This whole move with set up by Eunki. But he hopes the driver's question means the cafe's popular, well-loved. "Well then," the driver states and doesn't say anything more for several minutes. "Chinese are you?"

"Ah? No, I'm from Japan."

"Japan! Well." 

Thus ends their conversation until they pull up outside a white-painted brick house and Kenta pays the man. Outside, he shivers, although it's not cold. It's been a long day. This morning, he woke up on Eunki's sofa, the smell of freshly boiled rice in his nose and the radio playing an old TVXQ song. He hums it to himself now. He used to know the choreography. As he walks up the steps, he tries to pull that knowledge from the recesses of his brain. He tries not to think about how he's hungry, how the house is dark and empty, how far away all his friends are. The key is in his back pocket, still folded up in the lilac envelope it had been posted to Eunki in. He unwraps it and opens the wooden door, heaving his luggage over the sill after him. He gropes for a light switch and eventually smacks it with his knuckle. 

The space he steps into feels unexpectedly large. It has a high ceiling and mirrors lining the wall behind a long, marble-topped counter. The counter, like the square tables, is pristinely white, in contrast to the uncomfortable looking black chairs stacked upside down on the tabletops. Kenta's eyes sweep around the room. There are glasses and mugs stacked behind the counter, as well as boxes of tea and air-tight jars containing colourful biscuits. There is an antique-looking till and a marginally less antique-looking coffee machine. However, what Kenta's eyes zero in on is the lilac envelope lying on the counter, weighted down by another key. 

_[Hello. Welcome to town. There's no food in the flat, but grab a biscuit from the jars. They're pretty much fresh. There's a convenience store down the street and left. It's after the bar with the polar bear on the sign. (Don't go in there! They're dicks!). Donghyunnie will be in in the morning about 10. Good luck!]_

Kenta turns the paper over in his hands. There's nothing else. The same small, neat handwriting on the envelope in his backpocket. It has nothing else to reveal to him. With some effort, he yanks the lid off one of the jars and sinks his teeth into a biscuit. It's still soft inside, though not so fresh, and tastes of ginger and lemons. He doesn't go out, preferring to trudge straight upstairs to the flat. After brushing his teeth, he falls asleep on the soft, grey sofa, playing music all night to scare off dreams he doesn't want. 

 

At 5am, when light is beginning to break into the new day, he wakes up. A flock of birds are gathered on the phonelines, calling chattily. A man in white wellingtons splattered with mud is sputtering down the street on a moped. Huge parcels wrapped in black plastic are strapped to the rear and sides of his bike and a Labrador retriever is balancing itself in front of his feet. Kenta laughs as he goes to wash up. Really, he's very far from Seoul now. 

After making his way to the convenience store to get breakfast and some essentials - the kitchen was just as bare as Insoo's note had said - he goes back to his new cafe and drinks the warm, weak coffee in the echoing emptiness of that high-ceilinged room. It's not like he'd expected. He's not sure what he _had_ expected - Eunki did inform him the place Insoo's dad set up was a bit different to most cafes in Korea. But this, these white tables, that wall of mirrors... Kenta wonders if he'll be able to get used to it. 

Not knowing what else to do with himself, he cleans up, unlocks the door to the public, and commences teaching himself how to use the decades old equipment. Thankfully, given the depths of his struggles, not a soul comes in until 9am. 

 "Hulloo~ Are you open again?"

The boy sticking his head through the door is tall with a round, childish face and wavy hair falling into his eyes. Despite his height, the frayed denim jacket he's wearing is too long, drooping over his fingers. 

"Mostly," Kenta answers cheerfully, as honestly as he can, "What can I get you?"

"Will Insoo-hyung come back?" the boy enquires, now striding in with confidence. 

"Er, it doesn't seem like it. He's back in Seoul now, left the place in my hand." The boy is pouting so Kenta adds, wanting to be friendly, "My name is Kenta, by the way , I'm sure we'll get along. Now, er, what would you like?"

"Can you make a satay latte?" he checks, perking up, though when Kenta blinks in confusion his mouth falls back into its pout. 

"Sorry. Would you like me to try? Or would you like to order something other?"

"I'd like... I'd, hmm..." Kenta's rarely seen someone put this much effort into choosing their order. It's as if every muscle in his face is involved in the process. Suddenly, he sighs, "I don't know. That was my favourite, you see? I'd like something with coffee and lots of milk. And syrup. And bursting with flavour."

"Right," Kenta breathes, "Well, certainly. Take a seat and I'll bring it over." 

The boy nods seriously and hops over to a seat by the wall. He sits directly beneath one of the two posters decorating the room. It's a vintage movie poster of a woman in blue flares and a white helmet doing a highkick. The boy twirling his hair in the seat below doesn't pay her any attention. Since he's obviously a regular, Kenta bets that's the kid's favourite spot. Behind the counter, he scans his odd supplies and puzzles over what to make for his one regular. 

A mess. That's what he makes. He thought of chilli and chocolate, but then there was a bottle of peach syrup looking at him. That seemed to suit the boy. After adding it, a wave of regret crashed over Kenta's shoulders. Therefore, in an effort to fool the boy's senses with pretty colours, he topped the whole lot with bright pink cream and placed a free biscuit on the side. The boy sips experimentally, savouring the taste and aroma as if he were a conoisseur of sugary messes. 

"This is," he begins, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, "Bursting with flavour!" Opening his eyes, he fixes Kenta with a grin. "Thank you, Hyung! I'll tell everyone to come here again. I promise." 

As the strange kid leaves - pink coffee clasped in his hands and biscuit long since devoured - Kenta makes a silent wish that he's popular and keeps his word. Kenta feels like he could cope with his place if only there were some people around

 

For the next hour, he's alone. A little after 10, a van pulls up. There's a cartoon slice of toast smiling at him from the side. 

"Are you Kenta?" a boy asks from the passenger seat. He has short, chestnut hair, large eyes and a disarmingly shiny smile. The person driving - who Kenta can't see much of but for a scarlet sweater, the hood pulled up - reaches to turn their music down. It's Korean hiphop that Kenta thinks he's heard before, in a bar or somewhere, but he can't bring the artist to mind. 

"I am, yes. You are Donghyunnie?"

The boy jumps out of the van and shoots finger guns at him. 

"I am Donghyunnie. I'm your employee. You're one employee. That man in there having a delicate day is Youngmin. He and Noona bake all your wheat-based produce. I'm betting Insoo-hyung didn't leave you much information. Right? Right, thought so. Let's unload all this, then we can go in and I'll fill you in on whatever I can. Sound good?"

Donghyun speaks with an accent. It's not very strong, but he also speaks at the speed of an Epsom derby race horse. These two matters combined, Kenta needs a moment to work out everything that was just flung at him. 

"What's 'delicate day'?" he questions, eyebrows dipping cautiously. Donghyun snorts. 

"It means 'hungover'," Youngmin informs him, finally maneuvring himself from the van and lumbering around to their side. "Sorry, Noona's birthday party last night. But so anyway-" Then Youngmin leads him over to show him what's in the van and explain... something. Kenta has little idea. If he thought Donghyun spoke quickly, Youngmin talks at the speed of sound. And if Donghyun's accent was noticeable, it's flawlessly enunciated, newsreader-style Korean compared to Youngmin's. Even so, in the end, the cafe is freshly stocked with cookies and rolls and Donghyun is sitting across from him with a glass of black tea in front of him, delineating how the place has been running. 

"So it's just us?" 

Donghyun smacks his lips, "Yep. There's not that much business in a little place like this. But if you want to ever get away, go see the countryside or whatever, you should probably hire someone else eventually."

Kenta sips his own tea and mulls that over. Not fully knowing the state of this place's finances yet, it's hard to even contemplate. Additionally, 

"Is there much to see? This town's not in the tourist guides."

"With reason," Donghyun grins, "No, there's nothing much... Insoo-hyung always thought that way. He hated it here, honestly. The day his dad passed on, he started looking for someone to hand it over to." 

Shock must have shown on Kenta's face. Donghyun's grin turns wry. 

"Ah, sorry. I know that's kind of morbid. It's true though. This town's not bad - I hope you'll like it here. But Insoo-hyung only came back in the first place because his dad was sick and asked him to run things here."

Kenta stares into his tea while Donghyun wets his throat. He'd already heard as much from Eunki, but it was different hearing it from someone new. Insoo has to be a decent person because he's friends with Kenta's best friend - that reasoning makes sense to Kenta anyway. But he's having a hard time imagining him. That flat is barren - not a single photo left on the wall. All he has of the previous manager is that one note that welcomed him and the words other people have said. 

"What's morbid?" he checks after a while. Donghyun laughs. 

"About death. If you talk too much about death - that kinda thing." 

"Oh... Well, right. Let's not do that."

"Agreed!" Donghyun cheers, amusement sparkling in his eyes. Out of the blue, he slams his glass down and smacks his own forehead. "Speaking of the old gent, you need his recipe book. Now, where did we stash that thing..." 

Donghyun scrapes his chair back. Scratching his nape, muttering to himself all the while, he slips behind the counter and croutches down, only a tuft of dyed hair visible. Listening to drawers opening and closing, Donghyun shifting through this and that, Kenta breathes in the calming scent of his tea. The cafe isn't legally his yet, but he'll have to go to the bank so he has an account to pay Donghyun from. Also, all this white really is upsetting him. He must ask where the nearest big DIY store is. Seeing as this is the country, it might be out of town. He can't drive in Korea - getting a usable license wasn't necessary when he lived in the big city. Crap, he might need to fix that too... 

"Here we go." 

Donghyun drops a folder on the tabletop, the smack reverberating around the room. Unsurprisingly, it's black. It's also dusty, making Kenta's nose twitch. Inside, it's stuffed with hundreds of brittle sheets of A4 paper. Leafing through, it looks like Insoo's father painstakingly typed each recipe in Word then printed it on its own page for the folder. Some are only two or three lines long. Others include a long list of ingredients and helpful illustrations hand-drawn with a blue ballpen. He finds satay latte near the front and sighs in relief when he sees it's mostly just powdered peanuts and coffee. 

"I have lots to study," he remarks, becoming aware of Donghyun's eyes on him. From how Donghyun beams, Kenta concludes that was the correct response. 


	2. Ⅰ-Ⅰ ~ 僕の大好な花

The human capacity to accustom oneself to any situation is astonishing, Kenta considers. And thank god for that. In only a few weeks, he's started getting used to this place. He hung a few pictures in the flat - a faded poster he bought in Myeongdong his first week in Korea, one photo of his family and various postcards sent to him by family and hometown friends over the years. It doesn't fix how bare it feels, like staying in an officetel. He's not even comfortable using the bedroom yet, preferring to sleep on the sofa and fold his blankets away every morning. But it's beginning, slowly, to feel like his. His crappy little corner of the universe. The town remains ugly, but he hardly sees it. Apart from the supermarket and the convenience store, he hasn't gone anywhere. The locals always say there's nothing to see anyway, so he supposes he's not missing out. 

And then the cafe itself. He's coming to understand it. He is. It makes sense at times like this, when their are people about. That boy, Seonho is back, sitting under the movie poster, his satay latte in front of him and his friends around him. It turned out he is a little popular. He'd returned that very evening with a whippet thin boy wearing a silver cross around his neck and a tiny girl with braces and a mouth like a sailor. They're with him again, along with a couple of other high school kids. The spicy, sweet scent of their drinks is in the air, the cafe's white walls alive with the noise of their chatter. Two older men in fading suede jackets have been sitting by the window since morning, playing a fierce game of cards. At the counter, a round, middle-aged woman slurps her mint tea and makes meticulous notes in a thick almanac. When the cafe's like this, the monochrome design isn't so cold. As if it reflects their life and colour, makes it show itself... 

Kenta catches sight of himself in the mirror and wonders if he's entirely right in the head right now. He might be trying to compensate for the colourless decor, despite what he tells himself. When did he decide pairing scarlet trousers with a sunflower yellow shirt was a good idea? He'd never have worn those together with Sanghyun. The mere idea makes a bitter smile bloom on his lips. He bites it away. His hair, he notices, has almost totally faded back to black. He pinches a curl between his fingers. Should he dye it? The usual, sensible brown or a nice blond to match his shirt? The Sanghyun in his head tells him he knows the answer already. Anyway, it feels like his small-town customers might disapprove of blond. Not the highschoolers, obviously, but maybe Mrs.Heo and her almanac - she has a thorny aura about her. 

"Boss, you're still pretty. Don't worry." 

A hand lands on his shoulder. Kenta shrieks, clutching his heart. 

"Donghyunnie, why?" he complains, clutching his heart. 

"Hey~ I'm still pretty too," Donghyun preens, ignoring his boss in favour of winking at himself in the mirror. "But Hyung, I found Hyunbinnie's wallet. He must have mislaid it when he came in to collect their order earlier. I'd ring him but I don't have his number. I did send Donghannie a message, but he's always leaving his phone off lately because of work. So I don't know, Hyung. Should I just leave it behind the counter?"

Kenta smoothes down his shirt. Some lingering embarrassment aside, he's recovered from his Donghyun induced heartattack. He wets his lips before replying. 

"Say all of that again, please."

Donghyun grins. Kenta isn't sure if it's sheepish, or cheeky. His waiter has a wide range of grins, all very charming and troublesome to interpret. 

"This handsome guy forgot his wallet," he explains, unclipping the studded long wallet to show him the face on the ID card inside. He doesn't look especially handsome on his ID, but Kenta does remember the guy. Tall - he'd had to duck through the door and had narrowly avoided banging his head on a wall lamp. His black hair was longer than in the photo too, and swept away from his face. Donghyun had served him, but Kenta noticed him clumping out with three bulky paper bags, taking extra care not to bash into anything on his way out. 

"Oh yes. Just leave it behind the counter for now. He'll come back once he sees it will be missing." 

The autumn day flies by. Shadows across the cafe's tiled floor lengthen and slide. The old men are called away from their cards. The highschoolers lope off in different directions. Mrs. Heo and her almanac leave towards the end of the evening. A few families stop in with small children demanding chocolate milk tea and bear biscuits. At night, a few workers arrive. Either they order their coffee and hurry off home, or they linger, reading newspapers and ignoring their drinks, the men with their shirt sleeves rolled up and the women discreetly slipping their heels off under the table. The bread van rolls up outside to whisk Donghyun home after his shift. Kenta's all alone again. 

Although his tired eyes desperately long to put the lights down low and have a very long sit down, he turns them all up as he cleans. Sanghyun was the type who couldn't relax until everything was clean and neat and in its right place. That being so, more than professionalism, it's been engrained in Kenta not to put chores off until later. As he wipes a cloth down the backs of the chairs, this idea comes to him and sticks uneasily in his brain. How much of what he does is the same? How much is he moving in the same pattern, the one Sanghyun molded him into? Even with the distance, what if he's always like this? Stacking the chairs, he spots himself in the mirror and smirks despite himself. This silly outfit doesn't fit the pattern - his ex would have been horrified. 

This train of thought needs to be stopped. Throwing his cloth onto the nearest table, Kenta makes his way behind the counter to put the music back on. Something else Sanghyun wouldn't approve of - that'd be nice. When he's bending over the stereo, Kenta notices something glinting under the electric light. That guy's fancy wallet, he never did come back for it. A worried frown crinkles Kenta's forehead. Opening it up, he cheers quietly when he sees a business card just behind the ID. [Fave Flowers, Kwon Hyunbin]. There's a phone number and an address. He doesn't recognise the street name, but he decides he'll look it up online later and head down in the morning. Plenty of time to deal with it tomorrow. For now, he's going to play girl group songs and sing loudly to his day-old biscuits. The cafe will be cleaned in a jiffy that way, he's pretty sure. 

It's 7am when he sets off, locking the cafe behind him. The morning is bright and unseasonably warm - he ends up unwinding his scarf after a few minutes and simply swinging it in his hands. There are a few trees along the path. Most of their leaves have already fallen, forming a slimy slickness on the footpath after some rain last night. The leaves that remain are a dull brown. Only a few speckles of gold and maple red colour the path. Where he's going isn't far, but he's never been in this direction. It doesn't appear like he's been missing out on much. The low-rise buildings in need of a new coat of paint. The rackety vans bringing produce in from the countryside or equipment out to the villages. The muddy roads with potholes that may never be fixed. It's all the same. The town clusters under the same grey sky, the mountains wrapping around it like a fist. 

Kenta shakes his head. He's being strange again, letting things get to him. He notices a hand-painted sign for 'Grandma Choi's Spicy Beef Broth' and makes a mental note to stop by sometime to introduce himself to her and her broth. A little further on, he's pleasantly surprised to come across a small park. Although, on closer inspection, it's more a flat, water-logged square of grass that's had a couple of benches thrown in. Even so, perhaps it'll look better once the weather's turned dry. The faint sound of dance music makes him look up. He's arrived. 

The door and the sign above are black. The name of the shop is drawn in white, sweeping cursive letters. There's nothing outside and the window is dark, crammed with various things so there's no real way to see in. Kenta presumes they're yet to open. The place is small and, like so much in this town, a little run-down. It doesn't quite fit with that slim, fancy wallet, the softness of the leather and how the natural smell of it was there when Kenta had unclipped it. He knocks. No one answers. The music is loud, but he thinks they ought to have heard him anyway. He tries again. 

"Get in, Fucker!"

Kenta gulps. He turns the brass doorknob and peeks inside. Amidst a sea of flowers, all separated by colour into sky blue buckets, a man is crouching at a low table with a big pair of steel scissors and a growing pile of cut-offs. His balks when he sees Kenta. Frantically, he drops the scissors and smacks at the plastic speaker by his side until the music stops. 

"Hi! Hello. Sorry, you're not Sanggyun. I didn't mean to speak to you like that. Erm, we're not actually open yet as you can," he gets to his feet, gesturing about the shop vaguely, "As you can see."

"I don't want to buy flowers," Kenta blabbers. Seeing this person so embarrassed is making Kenta feel bad, no matter how nervous he was only a moment ago. He stuffs his scarf in his pocket and rummages in his messenger bag. "It's this. Does someone called Kwon Hyunbin work here? I think this was his."

The man's eyes light up. He tells Kenta to wait a few minutes if he'd like to give the wallet to Hyunbin in person. Not feeling a pressing urgency to get back to the cafe, Kenta agrees. The man tells him to take a seat, but amongst the foliage and garden ornaments, Kenta can't spot anything that would constitute a seat. (Unless he's expected to sit on that huge Reclining Buddha ornament. But that's surely impolite). Instead, he stands about, admiring what's inside the fridges lining the wall. He doesn't know the name of most of them, but there are roses and lilies, and orchids the same brilliant shade of violet as the weedy things the florist is clipping. Maybe he does want to buy flowers. 

The rattle of the doorknob alerts him before it opens. Kenta steps closer to the fridges in order to keep out of the way. In his brown coat and grey jeans he must blend in, because the man who comes inside doesn't notice him. He's a little taller than Kenta, wearing a chunky brown hoodie with a leopard print detail, baggy combats and a face mask. His eyes are clearly puffy, but what Kenta notices is how his thick eyebrows go up when he smiles and greets the florist. 

"Morning, Taehyonnie."

The florist - Taehyong? Taehyun? - grunts, rasing a hand in greeting, but otherwise barely shifting his concentration from the long, thin stems in his hands. Kenta can smell food - something hot and greasy - but he can't see it. The newcomer steps around the littered floor to drop down beside Taehyun. (Kenta feels that doing so without stumbling once was an impressive display of skill and prowess, especially at such an early hour). He unhooks his mask and draws a paper package from the pocket of his hoodie. It's a fat white rice ball. 

"You eat breakfast, Hyung?"

Taehyun shakes his head, belatedly remembering to lift his eyes from the food to the newcomer. The man smiles and breaks off a large piece, making sure to get some egg and spam with it. Taehyun plucks the steaming morsel from his fingers and swallows it like a duck. 

"You're a life-saver, Sanggyunnie."

"That's me, just like a superhero," he agrees around a mouthful of rice, "Only for breakfast though. My powers'll wane soon." Sanggyun looks happy talking nonsense and Taehyun looks happy listening to him. He breaks off another part of the rice ball for Taehyun. Feeling very much forgotten, Kenta clears his throat. The two men look up like meerkats. 

"Ah crap, sorry," Taehyun grumbles, gesturing with his scissors at Kenta, "Sanggyunnie, where's Hyunbinnie? This guy's got his wallet."

"Ah. Well." Sanggyun chews leisurely and swallows before answering, folding the now empty wax paper over and over into a triangle in his hands, "Well, he's probably still cooing over the cat."

Kenta's ears prick up. He hasn't been able to keep a pet in years! Even after they'd moved into a bigger apartment, Kenta was always so busy and he didn't necessarily trust Sanghyun to take care of an animal he didn't see the point of. So he's pet-starved. He's wondering what the least shameful way to phrase 'Let Kenta at the kitty!' would be, when 

"A cat?" Taehyun demands, distressed. 

"Yeah. Yonggukkie got a new one. It's only a kitten." Sanggyun has this nervous, tongue-bitten smile as he blabs his excuses. "It's in a cage. It hasn't had its jabs yet, so Yonggukkie has to keep it away from Tolbi. And - Ah! This by his voice should be a Montaguwu."

At long last, Hyunbin swings open the door. Gaze flitting between the cage in his arms, the grey ball of fluff inside, and the obstacle course that is the floor, Hyunbin also fails to notice Kenta at first. 

"Tell me that animal's not leaving its cage," Taehyun barks, pointing a finger up at Hyunbin. Hyunbin flaps a hand, then, realising the movement is making the cage swing slightly, freezes. The soppy, kitten-induced smile never quite leaves his face, even as he's pleading with his boss. 

"She won't! Hyung, I swear. I'll take, like, perfect care of her and not let her run around the shop or anything. Though that'd be really cute. Like, we could take pictures for the shop's social media. But like, that's not happening, obviously, because she and all of her fur are staying perfectly inside the cage, Hyung. I promise. She doesn't even have much fur. She's so tiny. See, Hyung? She's so tiny."

Taehyun's eyes flicker to the cage Hyunbin's attempting to show him, but he resolutely crosses his arms. 

"She'd better," he grumbles, "Now get your wallet back, moron."

Hyunbin only stares in confusion. Taehyun jerks his chin in Kenta's direction and gets back to his work, a sour twist lingering on his lips. Sanggyun pats his back and gets up to prepare for work himself. Slowly, Hyunbin turns. He's taller than Kenta had realised last night. There's at least 10 centimetres between them. More handsome too, with dark eyes and full lips, although he carries himself with the stoop that very tall people often have. On recognising Kenta, his confusion turns to shock. He smacks a hand over his mouth - the movement making the cage rock and a little grey head look up and glower. 

"It's you!" he hisses, grinning behind his hand, "Do you know where my wallet is?"

Kenta had only slipped it back into his bag. He takes it out and hands it to Hyunbin now. The man snatches it up and makes to jump for joy. Suddenly remembering anew his passenger, he stalls awkwardly, one fist already in the air. "This is amazing! Thank you so much. So much! How can we repay you?"

Kenta finds himself smiling at the reaction. He pauses while he thinks up how to respond to this kid - it's really not 'amazing', for one - and takes a deep breath. The rich fragrance from the flowers surrounding them fills his head. His eyes become aware of the rainbow of colour around, like a blooming oasis in this dingy town. 

"Actually, this isn't 'repay me'. But I have been thinking that I will like to order some flowers."

That morning, talking with the happy giant, Kenta smiles more naturally than he has since Seoul.


	3. Ⅰ-Ⅱ ~ いらっしゃいませ！

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is early, but since I had some time ^^  
> Taedonghan make their appearance and Kenta deals with a troublesome kid.

The boy at the counter is glaring at his chilli triple chocolate mocha with a force that makes Kenta's fingers itch to remove the drink to safety. 

"It's not that bad, is it?" he suggest, "You get pocket money, or you won't come in here so often. Do you need more?"

"Yes," the boy grits. There's something in his eyes other than anger. Hurt maybe. Or just frustration. Kenta can't tell, but it's made him more curious. 

"What for?"

The boy sniffs and looks away. A distinct blush colours his cheeks. _Ah, the oldest reason_ , Kenta deduces, suppressing a smirk, _Woojini likes a girl_. 

"It's just I promised Jihoon I'd take him somewhere after graduation. To make it good, I need to save. That's all. So I want a job. But now even Donghyunnie-hyung's turned against me." He growls the last part loudly enough for Donghyun to hear from out front where he's scrubbing steps. 

"That's correct, Kid!" he yells inside amiably. 

Well, it's not a girl then. But Kenta's still sure he was mostly right. He'd like to help Woojin. He likes Woojin - and not simply because they're wild fang-tooth twins, though that is all manner of endearing to Kenta. But because for all his stroppy teenage attitude, he regularly helps his family at the baker's do deliveries or brings a lunch for Donghyun so they can eat together whilst the older boy's on break. He's clearly a good kid, even if his glare could possibly melt steel. Unlike Youngmin, Woojin also remembers to at least try to standardise his speech a little when the foreigner's about. Additionally there's that one time he asked Kenta how to swear in dialect. Donghyun was offended, but Kenta couldn't help finding it thoughtful in a peculiar way. (What he actually taught Woojin was Gunma dialect for 'Your eyes are like moonbeams', but no one needed to know that). 

"What are their... objectings? What they don't like about you working."

Woojin sits up straight, abandoning attempting to reboil his coffee with the brute force of his own misery. Seeing that he has a genuine listening ear, at least for the moment, he stretches his arms above his head and launches into a speech delineating his family's objections to him getting a job and why they are all flaccid and thewless nonsense when set against the importance of him taking Park Jihoon to Phoenix Park. He's evidently put a great deal of thought into this. It's a bit over-whelming and Kenta is secretly grateful when Woojin gets thrown off by screams from outside. They both poke their noses out, finding Donghyun being swung about in the arms of a giant, chuckling puppy. 

Kenta laughs. Donghyun's squawking, but he doesn't _seem_  like he's struggling to get free. A door slamming alerts him to the presence of a van across the street. It's blue and painted with red and purple flowers. A man steps out. He fixes his knitted black scarf so it's covering half of his face and, fists buried in the sleeves of his parka, scurries across the road to Kenta. There's a breeze blowing down their street and the man's eyes are screwed up against the cold. Kenta ushers him in before introductions have been done. 

"Are you Kim Donghan? When Taehyun called, he said you'd be around this afternoon."

"We're early," he man acknowledges and, hearing his words be muffled by the scarf, tugs it down. He has a square face and sharp eyes, framed by dyed blond hair. He hasn't touched up the roots in a long time, the top of his head crowned with natural black hair. "I hope it's not inconvenient. And no, I'm not Donghan. That's the kid out there. My name's Kim Taedong. I'm the owner of Fave Flowers."

He offers no further explanation for why he's the one here talking to Kenta instead of who Taehyun had said would come, so the manager simply says it's a pleasure to meet him and leads him over to a table where they can discuss. In fairness, this Taedong person appears calm and collected - even taking into account the state of his roots. On the other hand, the last time Kenta peeked outside, Donghan was jokingly (?) kissing Donghyun's cheek while the waiter sighed and did nothing to stop him. Therefore, Kenta's feeling quite alright with this turn of events. 

Woojin comes over with a tray holding a pot and three glasses of steaming hot tea, the scent of jasmine rising from the pale liquid. Kenta has a suspicion Woojin's trying to show off. Taedong extracts a slim folder from his bag and shows him a couple of sketches as well as a break down of prices. When Kenta had said he'd like to order some flowers, Taehyun and Sanggyun had asked him a few probing questions and it quickly became apparent that this would be more complicated than he'd anticipated. More costly too. Kenta realised that he didn't want some gardenias by the door or a few carnations to put on the tables. He wanted a _look_. This place is so minimalist he can hardly stand it. Only the pair of vintage movie posters hint at the character of the ghostly figure who founded it. Their vibrant blues and reds. The caricaturish faces eyeballing each other above the customers' heads. 

After a couple of minutes, the two outside come in. Donghan, beanie pulled low, is carrying Donghyun's bucket and all the cleaning supplies. Donghyun, hands red from the cold and wet, is carrying a broom. They head straight into the back room, sniffling and vociferously shivering, complaining about the weather. Kenta assumes that, with Taedong present, Donghan took helping his friend as more important than doing business. He doesn't mind so long as they finished properly. Besides, Woojin's been standing behind the counter with a rag flung over his shoulder, practising looking like a bartender from a movie, so it's not as though the cafe and their one customer (Mrs. Heo, sitting at a corner table, studying an aged guide to face reading) have been unattended. 

When Donghan joins them at the table, with hasty apologies for being late, they're discussing local flowers . Honestly, Kenta has no idea what grows in the area. Apart from the skinny trees that were planted along the pavement and are carved with countless local kids' initials, he hasn't exactly seen much greenery since he arrived. Not until visiting the florist's the other day. But seasonal sounds like a good idea, something to make his place more vibrant and alive. Also, hopefully, cheaper than the beautiful ideas Sanggyun sketched. 

"If you wanted some inspiration, you could come hiking with us," Donghan suggests. 

"Oh, that's not bad," Taedong says, tipping his glass in approval. Seeing Kenta looking left out, Donghan explains. In a few days, they're planning to hike up to some temple and have lunch there. Hiking makes sense as a past-time, when the town has so little to offer. No one's ever mentioned any temple worth visiting to Kenta though. And also...

"Is it far?" he asks them. Strenuous exercise isn't Kenta's friend. Contrarily, Taedong's muscles and broad shoulders are evident even under his thick woolen jumper. Donghan's almost as tall as Hyunbin and, from how he was manhandling Donghyun, he must be strong. Kenta would hate to tag along just to slow them down. 

"Not that long. The drive is 40 minutes or so. Then the climb to the temple is another hour."

"90 minutes," Donghan interrupts, "Yonggukkie-hyung's coming." 

"Is he?" Taedong's tone makes this sound like an astounding turn of events. But Donghan nods certainly. 

"Yep. Hyunbinnie-hyung said." 

Taedong snorts,

"Oh. Hyunbin said."

Donghan's bottom lip comes out at his hyung's derision. Despite his looks, his reactions are cute, Kenta notes. He's tall and broad and handsome, a straight nose and big, expressive eyes. But he pouts like a kid. It's adorable. Kenta sort of wants to poke him. 

"What about it, Kenta-sshi? Would you like to come?" Donghan checks, not seeming to notice that Kenta's been staring. Kenta blushes and chuckles awkwardly anyway. (Pep talking himself to act cool never did have much effect. The best he ever managed was to keep his mouth shut for the duration of Sanghyun's dinner parties in the hopes that whoever his boyfriend needed to impress would mistake Kenta for a suave and mysterious foreigner, rather than an embarrassing mess of an individual). 

"Sure. That would be nice."

Donghan smiles. He has dimples, and now Kenta _really_  wants to poke him. 

They wrap things up shortly. Taedong has a more concrete (and less expensive) plan to take back. He explains that they're busy lately so he's not sure when they'll be able to complete his order. Kenta waves him off. Taedong's already mentioned being friends with Insoo and it's clear the florists are giving him a terribly good rate. 

As their van is leaving, Seonho strolls in with the skinny boy with the cross, Daehwi, and another with a round face and curly hair. Kenta remembers the curly-haired boy because of that time he caught the kid using his reflection in a spoon to practise his expressions. Annoyingly, he still hasn't worked out his name. Kenta can't shake a shade of guilt about that. The highschoolers flock to their usual table and Woojin slopes over to join them. 

"Hyung, are you going hiking with them?" Donghyun asks after taking the kids' orders. Kenta nods and Donghyun peers at him with a touch of worry in his eyes. "I'm only scheduled for a couple of hours in the morning that day, Boss. I can't stay for longer, I've got a date."

"About that," Kenta begins, twirling a sugar shaker between his fingers. He often wonders if he should point out to Donghyun how he's forever hopping beween 'hyung' and 'boss'. Kenta doesn't mind - he's not all that strict on formalities. It's just that he can't tell if Donghyun's aware of it himself or not... "You said on my first day we should hire another person."

Realisation gradually dawns on Donghyun's face. When it does, he gasps, slapping one hand over his mouth and slapping Kenta's shoulder with the other. 

"Hyung, no! His mum would kill me. God, Youngminnie-hyung would kill me. It's no good, Boss."

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder - Donghyun's stronger than he looks - Kenta holds his waiter's hand and pats his arm placatingly. 

"Youngmin will be sad if you'll be dead. How about we make an agreement? Woojini must keep his grades above a C maybe."

Donghyun side-eyes him, but Kenta holds his ground, continuing to pat Donghyun's shirtsleeve as if he were merely a disgruntled rabbit, not a randomly violent one. 

"A," Donghyun insists. 

"B?" 

"A!" he whines, shaking his shoulders pathetically. 

"B plus?"

Donghyun purses his lips. Kenta watches his eyes lower as he internally deliberates. Finally, he looks up. 

"Deal, Hyung. I'll talk Youngmin and his mum around if I need to."

Before he's even finished speaking, Woojin - who was unsubtley eavesdropping the whole time, almost tumbling over the back of his chair in his efforts - hollers, 

"Yes! Yes! In your face, Daehwi. In your face, Seonho. Fucking in your face, Haknyeon!"

The highschoolers yell and protest and Donghyun marches over to convince Woojin to conduct himself with moderately more decorum when in his future workplace. Kenta smiles to himself. _Haknyeon!_  he thinks, _That was it._  He'd remembered it was something to do with school. 

Mrs. Heo left a newspaper open on the table after she left. Kenta spies it now and ambles over to tidy it away. He picks it up, pinches the sides just so and, like a wave crashing over him, memories flood in. Of Sanghyun teaching him this better technique years ago. Of Sanghyun patting his head when he got it right. Of Sanghyun's smile and Sanghyun's touch and Sanghyun who is hundreds of miles away from where Kenta is. He calls to Donghyun that there's something he wants in the flat and he scuttles away and up the wooden stairs. He doesn't come down again for 20 minutes. And if his hands are empty and his eyes are red, no one points it out.  


	4. Ⅰ-Ⅲ ~ 山へ行こうよ

Sanggyun's van is old, about as old as Woojin, Kenta would guess. Despite having been painted over in navy blue, in the bright light that morning, the old, swirly logo of the florist's is just about visible underneath. It doesn't smell like a florist's. It holds the lingering scents of petrol and animals and take-out and who-knows-what. The journey takes them out into the country, slipping from the wide, rutted streets on to steep, narrow roads where the wild hedgegrow brushes the van on both sides. Kenta spends it squashed in the backseat between Donghan and Hyunbin. There's too much of both of them and not enough space. Everytime one of them wants to rearrange their tree-trunk-like legs, Kenta finds himself being manhandled, an arm around his shoulder, a hand unassumingly resting on his knee. 

To be clear, Kenta doesn't mind skinship - even if it's from very recent Handsome Acquaintances. It is distracting though. He keeps getting lost during his conversation with Yongguk - even though Yongguk is, mercifully, the only one who neither speaks with a strong accent nor peppers his speech with slang Kenta doesn't recognise. All in all, once they arrive, Kenta has learnt only a little about Yongguk's work at the folk music college, but feels himself overly acquainted with the weight of Donghan's hand on his thigh and Hyunbin;s habit of shaking Kenta's shoulder anytime they pass by sheep. (They pass by many sheep). 

Meanwhile, Taedong and Sanggyun are up front. Occasionally Kenta hears a snippet of conversation from them, but they mostly seem lost in their own worlds. Taehyun has one of the middle seats. He took something to make him sleep through travel sickness and has been out cold since minutes after they left from outside his shop. Yongguk, whom Kenta hadn't met yet, is occupying the other middle seat. For warmth, he has all their coats and scarves piled into a mountain on his lap. He's been on some handheld console the whole ride, playing it even whilst chatting with Kenta or agreeing with Hyunbin that that one sheep probably was that other sheep's bro. When the game he's playing gets exciting, he tends to jerk this way and that, making all their things spill on to the not entirely clean looking floor. Kenta's favourite star-patterned scarf is in there and he's a little concerned about its safety. However, the giant kids he's sitting with pay zero attention to Yongguk jumping around as if he's been shot and, in fairness, Yongguk does gather the things up again properly each time. 

Soon the monotony of dilapidated farm houses, ogling sheep and flat, tarpaulin covered fields of crops begins to break up. As they rise up, more trees appear along the hedgegrow, looking strong and sturdy compared to their cousins downtown. Ancient, sprawling roots anchor the stone walls. The fields become smaller, many turning half-wild or left with one lonely goat to tend them. They fly past a petrol station with its roof caving in. A couple of minutes later, after a bend in the road, they are suddenly in a village. It doesn't seem to exist beyond the next bend in the road. But there is a shop and a garage, where men are working with Uhm Junghwa on full blast - Kenta respects their taste in music. Across from them, there is a bakery where a mongrel with muddy, cream-coloured fur is dozing in the doorway, warming itself in a shaft of sunlight. There is also a very small area that, presumably, constitutes the village square. The whole place is overwhelmingly brown and beige and dusty. Even in the bright November Sun it feels muted, a breath held until it was forgotten. A tree, already bare, stands at its centre. On a rusted metal bench underneath, flakes of black paint clinging to it like dying leaves, three old men are sitting in a row, wrapped up against the cold. They nod to Taedong when he hops out of the van, stretching his limbs and yawning in the sudden cool air, and otherwise offer no further acknowledgement of their group's arrival. 

"Someone wake Taehyonnie up," Sanggyun mumbles as he opens his door and slumps on to the pavement. Taking this as his job, Yongguk squeezes himself between the two front seats, leaving enough space for Hyunbin, Donghan and Kenta to clamber out. Hyunbin is first, kicking his legs out and somehow throwing himself from the van. Next, Kenta moves to climb out and finds an arm around his waist. Donghan lifts him from the vehicle - not just offering him a supporting hand, but physically lifting. Kenta squeaks in protest, feeling the moment of weightlessness. He's set down on the ground and is temporarily struck dumb. It's been an awfully long time since a cute boy picked him up like that. And Donghan likely did that without much thought. Peeking up at the boy now, he's sniffling loudly from the cold, dry air and trying to hide as much of his face in his polo neck jumper as he can. Definitely not much thought, Kenta concludes. He leans into the van and hauls out Donghan's jacket and scarf. 

"Stop sniffing," he orders, grinning as he hands the items over to him. Donghan returns the smile and sniffles again, extra noisily. Turning back to grab the remaining coats and things, Kenta gets side-tracked by Yongguk. He's waggling his fingers in front of Taehyun's face as if he expects to magic him awake. Yongguk's expression is so blank that Kenta's unsure how serious or otherwise he is. It's a moot point though, as, when Yongguk waggles his fingers just so, Taehyun snorts and shudders awake. Yongguk claps and flees, swerving around Kenta and shoving past Donghan, like a boy who just played knock-knock-ginger on the neighbourhood's scariest ajusshi. A moment later, he's crouched below the bare tree, his coat zipped up to his chin and his console mysteriously in his hands again. Back in the van, Taehyun's still blinking slowly, groggily scratching his stomach. Kenta has no opportunity to question what took place , before he's being lifted up, more gently this time. 

"I'll get the stuff, Hyung. It's easier if I do it." 

Not entirely trusting his voice to do right by him, Kenta merely nods. He slips away to where Taedong and Hyunbin are conversing with the old men on the bench. He won't think about the feeling of his feet not touching the ground, he instructs himself. It'll be much better to forget. 

As Kenta had expected, the village is little more than the square with its tree and its bench and its cluster of buildings. Tramping along the road, they're quickly left with nothing but a high stone wall and towering bamboo forest on either side. The wall is well-maintained. They pass by a huge metal sign for The Peaceful Sea Temple, so Kenta guesses the temple's associates keep it looking nice. Shortly beyond the sign, there is a break in the wall where wide wooden steps have been cut into the hillside. Brightly coloured flags are strung up amongst the dense trees, fluttering in the chilly breeze. 

There's not a sound beyond their own chatter and the occasional trill and chirp of insects in the forest. The path is sunk in deep shadow, even in the late morning, the flags marking the way through the gloom. Taehyun and Taedong are in the lead. Sometimes the sound of them laughing and jostling each other will float down to Kenta. Unsurprisingly, he and Yongguk are puffing at the back. With further prying, Kenta has discovered that Yongguk teaches a class about something that sounds like a zither, but also that he has no interest in talking about it. 

"It's not that I want to exercise, but I want to set a good example," he explains. 

Kenta nods and then realises belatedly that he doesn't understand. 

"Who is it for? Your good example."

"The kids."

"Oh!" Kenta flushes - he'd had no idea. In fairness, the man glued to his console hadn't looked like the family type. And isn't he housemates with Hyunbin and Sanggyun? Kenta's sure he heard that. "Your very young," he tries probing for more information. 

"Yes, I'm a baby," Yongguk agrees, then starts talking about his cats for some reason, "But, you see, Tolbi doesn't even like chasing mice. He's not scared, so I think it's laziness. If his sister learns from him, wont that be bad? So that's why I have to exercise. Do you see?"

"Of course," Kenta concurs, although he doesn't think he does see quite yet. 

"Fighting, Hyung!" Hyunbin yells from up ahead where he's walking with Donghan and Sanggyun. He'd looked back to give his housemate some encouragement - someone tells him to watch where he's going. Sure enough, moments later, Hyunbin stumbles, landing with a huff on the stairs. His fall is cushioned by the backpack he's carrying, filled with their lunch for later. 

"Stupid!" Yongguk shouts fondly, rushing over to help pick his friend up. Sanggyun, still giggling, unzips Hyunbin's backpack to check the state of their lunch. After a little while, Kenta peers up to see Donghan keeping step with him. 

"They're ignoring me again," he grumbles, "Will Hyung pay attention to me?"

"No," Kenta answers, snickering when Donghan whines. 

"I thought Kenta-hyung would be nice, but you're mean too. Everyone's so mean to me."

Kenta laughs harder. Donghan's just too big and tall to act like that, yet his expression is so fulsomely miffed that Kenta can't help finding him funny. Donghan harrumphs and that's the only warning Kenta has before an arm is around his shoulder, aggressively tugging him closer. 

"Anyway, Cruel Hyung, how is it running Insoo-hyung's cafe? Is it different to what you were used to?"

Kenta squawks, stumbling into Donghan's side. He considers berating the kid - there are _stairs_ , that was _dangerous_! But it feels easier to roll with the situation if the worst thing he's experiencing is a warm arm around him on a cold day. He sighs, breathing in the damp scent of the forest. 

"Yeah, it's different. I came in a sudden, so I'm still a dusting." It occurs to Kenta that Donghan might think to ask _why_ he suddenly left Seoul for this speck on the map. So he pre-empts, "Will you tell me about Insoo? I never met him in person."

"Huh. Taedongie-hyung knew him better than I did," he mumbles, chewing his lip, "But sure, I guess."

The portrait Donghan paints adds a few more details. Insoo had attended a music college outside Seoul. Kenta knew that much from Eunki, they'd been classmates. According to Donghan, he knew how to mix records. He even had all this equipment stashed in the flat above the cafe. But he didn't use it, not after he moved back. He hardly played any music. He hardly left the cafe. Kenta doesn't know what he looked like, but he can picture him - smoking cigarettes on the front steps when there were no customers, visiting the hospital every Sunday, waiting to leave. Not much different to him, Kenta figures. It's been over a month and he's always got some excuse not to go anywhere, not to explore his new home. As if he can't accept it. It's always him at the end of the day, on his own, with all the lights on and the cafe's ridiculously strong tea keeping him company through the night. 

His face must be showing his emotions, because Donghan is rubbing his back. 

"Hyung, did I make you sad? Crap, I'm sorry. We're here though. We can eat soon." Kenta tries to give him a reassuring smile, but apparently fails horribly because Donghan's stupidly strong arms pull him closer and he rubs a thumb over Kenta's cheek, "Ah, Hyung. Please don't be sad. They'll yell at me if they think I upset you." 

Kenta giggles at that and pushes him away. Donghan lets him go and they hurry to catch up with the others. 

There's a simple stone gate at the top of the steps, carved with the temple's name in hanja. The forest's diversified up here. Kenta can't tell what tree they are, but whip-like branches with rich red leaves crowd the gate where Hyunbin, Yongguk and Taedong are pausing to take selca. Donghan practically throws himself into the frame. Curious - it's a long time since he visited a Korean temple - Kenta slips by them. 

Beyond the gate, the land opens up into a flat courtyard, swept bare. The building itself isn't very impressive as temple's go - a sweeping roof, white walls and red doorways guarded by lions. Taehyun and Sanggyun are already standing at the top of the flight of neat, white steps leading to the shrine. Kenta will join them later. What catches his eye now is the view. Dropping away from the temple, the mountainside is dense with forests, red and gold, clusters of spiky evergreens and impenetrable bamboo. Farmhouses dot the landscape, some with smoke threading up to the vast sky and scudding clouds. Kenta's breath catches in his throat. It's so beautiful, he had no idea it would be like this. 


	5. Ⅱ-Ⅰ ~ 昼飯を食べますか？

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenta hangs out with magnae line

A week later finds the florist's van pulling up outside the cafe at 7am. Kenta's up because he always is by then. But he's still wearing his comfy panda-face pyjamas and slipper socks and isn't ready to be confronted with Kim Donghan in a long black trench coat glaring at him on his doorstep. 

"I'm freezing. Lemme in, Hyung."

Kenta steps aside to let Donghan stomp past him and choose a chair to glare from. Right, Sanggyun had called yesterday to say they'd go around to set up his arrangements, but Kenta had understood there to be a 'maybe' tagged on there. And also, 

"Is it only you, Donghana?" he asks, placing a hot cup of oolong tea in front of the sleepy boy. Donghan takes his hands out of his pockets for the first time and mumbles a thank you as he eagerly brings the cup to his lips. 

"For now. Hyunbinnie-hyung will be around later, but he has an early class." Kenta had learnt during their picnic at the temple that Donghan and Hyunbin are only part-timers at the florist's. Hyunbin's taking classes in drumming at the same college where Yongguk teaches. Donghan splits his time between being trained up by Taehyun and Sanggyun and working at his parent's hardware store. No wonder he's tired, Kenta thinks. "Taehyunnie-hyung and Sanggyunnie-hyung are busy. Or they refuse, I don't know."

"And Taedong?"

"He's busy. He's back in Daegu today." Donghan takes a big gulp of his tea. Kenta watches him, fascinated at how the boy's able to do that without burning his entire mouth. "Are you sad it's only me, Hyung?" Donghan asks with a frown. 

"What?" Kenta furrows his brow, figuring out if he understood Donghan's question properly, "No, of course not!"

"In that case, are you happy it's only me?" And now Donghan's winking at him flirtatiously, so Kenta slaps the boy's arm. Pushing his chair back, he jumps to his feet. 

"Why say that?! I will go to change clothes. Don't that way drink your tea!" he blusters, ten times more flustered than he figures he has any reason to be. 

"OK, Hyung," Donghan chuckles. He's cute like that. It makes it hard to pretend to be mad at him. 

About an hour later, Kenta has changed into something more respectable than panda-pyjamas (if his yellow plaid capris and a dress shirt count as respectable...) and Donghan is balancing on one leg on a stool by the entranceway. Kenta's supremely worried about him. _He_ would have fallen on his face several times over by now. No matter how athletic Donghan is, it's surely only a matter of time until he topples and cracks his head open on Kenta's floor. 

"I know I'm handsome, but it's distracting if you stare at me _all_ the time."

Studiously ignoring how burning hot his face is now, Kenta leaves his perch behind the counter and marches over, arms akimbo. 

"I'm worrying you'll fall. If you fall in my cafe, you mustn't sue me."

Donghan grins down at him and returns to his work. If anything, Kenta's more worried now. While Donghan's grinning about something stupid, he's surely giving less concentration to his job. Kenta hovers near his stool, not sure how to rectify this. Donghan's almost done with this part anyway. He's fixing a frame of dried flowers twisting around the doorway. There's amaranth the colour of blood, zinnia, rosebuds coloured midnight blue, and lunaria shimmering like mother of pearl. Outside, he's already finished a similar, though simpler set up. That one has more autumnal colours - those same thin branches with flame red leaves Kenta had noticed at the temple, along with juniper and blooms of Queen anne's lace and yarrow and bold red chrysanthemums. Evidently Donghan does know what he's doing far better than he lets on. So Kenta ought not to worry. 

He still does though. And Donghan doesn't much mind Kenta's presence, finishing his work in a laid-back way, humming a song under his breath. Without meaning to, Kenta listens closely. It's a familiar tune, but he can't place it. Was it something Sanghyun liked? 

"Hyung~! Catch me, catch me!" Donghan sing-songs in what he must think is a cute voice. (It _is_ cute, but Kenta's not about to admit that). With no further warning, he jumps down and into Kenta's arms. Kenta stumbles, winded, and Donghan's arms wrap around his waist to steady him. 

"Sorry, Hyung," he laughs, "That's my part all done. I'll clear up before Hyunbin-hyung gets here."

"Oh. Right." Kenta's hands are resting on Donghan's upper-arms , loosely gripping the fabric of his jumper. As it's been a while since he's been this close to a handsome younger guy, it takes a moment for him to regain control of his tongue. Before he has, he blurts out, "What were you singing? It was pretty."

For the blink of an eye, Donghan's smile falters at the unexpected question. 

"Oh that." He rights himself, dusting his hands over the arms of Kenta's rumpled shirt as if to apologise for manhandling him (yet again). "That's a song I like. It's called 'Love is', by Teen Top. My friends and I danced to it at a festival last year, before we graduated. Does Hyung like it? I can send it to you."

"Love is... Oh yes. I remember it now." A bar. Too nice for Kenta's weekend clothes, a faded pair of jeans and a baggy hoodie. But Sanghyun hadn't warned him they were going somewhere fancy. The stupid bright green cocktail he hadn't really wanted and how, after Sanghyun told him the news, it tasted of nothing. That song on the speakers and a future before Kenta's eyes that made perfect sense. Perfect logical sense. _I'm so excited for us to go together, Kenchan. You will come with me? You will, won't you?_

"Oh no! Hyung, I made you sad again!"

"What? No!" Kenta laughs and slaps at Donghan's hands already fussing around his face. 

"I didn't?" 

"Absolutely not. Donghana made me happy because the flowers look so pretty. OK?"

Despite looking dubious, the kid smiles with him and begs a free drink. Kenta makes it while Donghan clears up. If free drinks is all it takes for Donghan to drop it, Kenta will gladly make him the most complex concoction from Insoo's dad's recipe book. 

Hyunbin arrives some time later. He rolls up in a taxi, a heavy book bag on his back and a small paper bag of sour plums in his hands. He greets them, his puffy eyes barely cracking open, smacks his head on the wall lamp, trips over a chair, bangs his knee on a table and finally falls on to a stool, landing sprawled across Donghan's lap. His bag of sour plums is still, somehow, safe. The youngest cackles and scolds him not to trash Kenta's cafe before they've beautified it. Kenta, keeping a safe distance, enquires of him if he'd like a drink on the house. 

"Yes, please," Hyunbin rumbles, clawing his way up Donghan's arm, "Sorry. I'll fix everything up. I'm not good with mornings." 

"No, no! I'll get it," Kenta hurriedly assures before Hyubin can stand up and cause more damage to his property, "You just tell me what you'd like. Anything at all." 

Well, Hyunbin's egg coffee is less difficult than Donghan's persimmon caramel tea latte, but Kenta needs to pull the old folder out nevertheless. He doesn't pay much attention to what the younger two are talking about, too busy setting his furniture back in place and concentrating on Insoo's dad's drawn instructions. That's why he physically startles when he's sliding the completed, syrupy, brownish yellow glop across the marble-topped counter and hears, 

"I told you! It's because I'm handsome. Your getting a free drink is only because you were all pathetic."

"Why would he give you a reward for being handsome when he knew I'd be here soon. That makes no sense, Donghan-ah."

Hyunbin's blatantly messing with him. so it's hilarious that Donghan's taking the bait. He spears the last of Hyunbin's plums and chews it vindictively. His ears have turned red and, if Kenta knew these two a little better, he'd tug them and giggle at Donghan for being dumb. As it is, he bites back a grin and tells Hyunbin politely to enjoy his drink before he thinks about starting work. But Hyunbin grabs his hand, holding it gently. 

"Hyung-ah, you should settle this. Which one of us is more handsome? It's me, isn't it? You can just tell him straight, Hyung."

Donghan chuckles emotionlessly, a dangerous spark in his eyes. 

"Ah... Well," Kenta dithers, "Donghana's face is very nice." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the kid smirk victoriously. "But so is Hyunbini's. And Hyunbini looks very charismatic when he's walking. I suppose it's Hyunbini."

Hyunbin's silly laugh then reminds Kenta a lot of Seonho and Hak-something. Undeterred, Donghan presses, 

"I can dance though. This guy has two massive left feet. I should get extra points for that." 

Kenta shakes his head, wanting to bring this to a close before one of them takes things to seriously. 

"Usually every day people are walking, they're not dancing. It's still Hyunbini." 

Donghan gasps, utterly offended, his chest coming out and his hands balled into fists on his lap. 

"Usually people are walking~," Hyunbin crows, delighted. 

"Are we interrupting?"

Kenta looks up with a start. Donghyun's standing in the doorway, Daehwi at his side. Donghyun's beaming and Daehwi's hiding a smile behind his sleeve. Kenta wonders how much they overheard. Lots, he's guessing. He hadn't noticed it being time for Donghyun to turn up, hadn't even heard the bread van pull up. 

"Yes, thank you!" he cries, "Come in from the coldness! Daehwi-ya, can I get you anything?"

"May I just have an americano, Hyung?" Daehwi requests, coming out from behind his sleeve. 

"Of course, of course. Uwah, I think Daehwi's the best after all," he muses, pretending not to notice the pair of giants pouting at their drinks. After quickly making Daehwi his coffee, he rushes out to help Donghyun and Daehwi finish bringing in that day's fresh baked goods for the cafe. Rather than Youngmin, an intimidating noona with purple hair and a lip piercing is driving the van, so Kenta only greets her briefly before bustling back inside from the bleak November weather. 

Donghan and Hyunbin have either settled their disagreement or, at least, set their teasing aside. Hyunbin polishes off his drink and, a little more awake now, sets to work filling the bay window with lavender and a flower Kenta doesn't recognise with lush, dusty pink petals the shape of tears. Donghan sticks around to chat to Donghyun and distract him from work. Two older gentlemen come in for tea and mahjong. Daehwi convinces them to let him play. (For Oreos rather than money, because he refuses to gamble. Either way, Mr.Shim and Mr.Hong soon owe him a fortune in cookies). As quiet as the place generally is, Kenta doesn't notice the morning slip by. 

"Hyung, are you hungry? Can you take a break?" Donghan's looking at him with big soft eyes and speaking sweetly. Kenta presumes he wants something and answers cagily, 

"Yes? I could."

"I have to go to the store soon." From the dry way he says it, Kenta knows he means he has to go do a shift at his parents' shop. "I want to eat first. It's early, but will Hyung get lunch with me?"

It's only when Donghan asks him that Kenta notices he's hungry. He ate tamago gohan for breakfast, but that was hours ago. The Sun wasn't yet up and old men on mopeds laden down with goods were still motoring past his window, scarves wrapped about their heads like cowls and huge black gloves protecting their hands from frostbite. 

"I'd love to," he decides. His stomach flutters when Donghan's expression melts into a smile. That's probably just the hunger though. 

He tells Donghyun he's leaving and pulls on a coat and hat and the chunkiest scarf he has. Only the tip of his nose peeps out when he's done winding it around his neck. By the time he's ready, Donghan's bouncing on the balls of his feet - excited about food, Kenta presumes. 

"We can go to my aunt's place. It's not far. She makes local style beef soup. It's to die for. Maybe you don't like spicy stuff though... But she does other dishes too, so it's OK -"

An arm slung around Kenta's shoulder, Donghan continues to witter on whilst they step outside. Kenta realises as the cold air enters his lungs, that this is the first time he's going for lunch somewhere other than his flat or the convenience store. He thought about it before, he did. But it always felt easier to disappear up to the flat where he didn't have to talk to anyone or even look out the window if he didn't feel like it. Not to bring the atmosphere down, he doesn't mention any of this to Donghan. He only lets himself soak up the warmth at his side, being buoyed along on Donghan's good mood. 


	6. Ⅱ-Ⅱ ~ 冬祭り

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> KenGyunHod go to the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Sanggyun references is [A Red, Red Rose](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Red,_Red_Rose) by Robert Burns.

As weeks pass, Kenta's getting used to going out for lunch. Not everyday, but Donghan shows up three or four times a week looking for someone to keep him company and Kenta hasn't had a reason to turn him down yet. It's also not as though they go anywhere interesting - there is no where interesting to go around here. But it's nice to sit out at a cold table with the kid, slurping hot noodles or devouring a bowl of steaming mixed rice, watching life as it unfurls in this godawful spot they call home. They talk about football or movies or local legends or nothing at all. 

Mostly it's just Donghan, but sometimes Hyunbin and/or Yongguk turn up as well. Hyunbin really does like to tease. Now that they're more comfortable, Kenta gets assaulted with it too. He suspects it's all related to how much Hyunbin gets teased and scolded by Taehyun and Sanggyun and that this is part of the social hierarchy of the world playing out over lunch. In any case, they're so light that he doesn't see why he shouldn't let the kids have their way. On the other hand, once he accepted that Yongguk will only talk about the things Yongguk wants to talk about, he found the Chinese musician very easy to get along with. The debates he starts with Donghan are profoundly pointless, but he seems to enjoy them. And Kenta might not understand the details of the game Yongguk's describing, but he knows Yongguk's super excited about it and is cute when he's trying to explain the gameplay using napkins, a spoon and the pepper jar. More than anyone else, he pokes fun at Kenta for his Korean mistakes. Since Yongguk had to learn too, Kenta usually just laughs at himself and tries to remember the correction.

On very rare occasion, as today, Sanggyun turns up too. That afternoon, there's light snow falling. Donghan and Sanggyun arrive swaddled in parkas, scarves, beanies, gloves and facemasks. Donghan's glasses steam up the moment they step inside from the cold. He loiters under the floral arch, scowling at his lenses as he attempts to clear them with his snow-speckled sleeve. 

"Sanggyunnie-hyung's here," Woojin calls from behind the counter where he's been having Mrs. Heo read his future. (While reading his palm, she'd declared there was no romance in his immediate future. Woojin talked her into reading tea leaves for him as well and, after three cups, things are finally starting to look up for Park Woojin's love life). 

"Hey, Kid," Sanggyun greets, eyes crinkling into a smile over his facemask. His voice is hoarse and creaky, making Kenta look up from the paperwork Insoo had posted to him - the business of transferring ownership is turning out to be even more complicated than they'd expected. 

"Is Hyung sick?" Woojin asks with a frown, "Would you like tea?" He gestures at the three empty cups and single saucer piled with damp leaves lined up in front of Mrs. Heo. Kenta's not sure what the gestures supposed to illustrate other than that Woojin has learnt what 'tea' is. Sanggyun waves him off. 

"Seems so," he shrugs in answer to Woojin's first question, "At first I just thought one of the cats had escaped into my part of the house, but it's been a couple of days already. Taedong's back in town, so Taehyonnie ordered me to go rest while they work till the seas gang dry and the rocks melt wi' the Sun."

"Huh?" Woojin cocks his head in confusion, but Sanggyun just grins and tells him not to mind. 

"If you're supposed to be resting, what are you doing in this den of iniquity?" Donghyun sighs, popping up with Donghan at his side. Sanggyun and Woojin grin, while Mrs. Heo hits Donghyun with a razor sharp glare. Kenta deduces it's best not to ask what 'iniquity' means. 

"A man's got to eat," Sanggyun replies, seating himself on a stool beside Mrs. Heo - who is scrupulously analysing his forehead for signs of a weak character. He lifts his fringe up to assist her. Donghyun slips behind the counter to fix Mr. Choi and his little daughter up with yuenyeung coffees and toasted cream rolls. Donghan drops into a seat across from Kenta, a disgruntled moue on his face and his de-fogged glasses sitting crookedly on his nose. Kenta concentrates on gathering up his papers. He most certainly does not dwell on the temptation to reach over and poke Donghan's cheeks till he smiles and his dimples appear. 

"Are you free today, Hyung? Gyun-hyung'll drive us somewhere."

"Yes, this can all wait," Kenta nods, finally clipping shut the folder he keeps all this sort of thing in. By 'can wait' what he technically means is he needs someone to help him translate the horrible, dense legalese so he doesn't accidentally screw up something important. And that's not going to happen any time before lunch. "Where can we drive to?"

"There's the winter festival in Railroad Park. Have you been?"

Kenta shakes his head. When he tells Sanggyun he's never even heard of Railroad Park, the other man beams behind his mask. 

"That's great then. The first thing to know, is that there's no railroad there." 

"Lots of streetfood during the festival though," Donghan adds, eyes bulging for emphasis. His expression has softened now that they're talking about lunch, so Kenta stops resisting his compulsions. Lightly poking Donghan's cheek, he asks, 

"If it's streetfood, what would you like Hyung to buy you?"

"Everything," Donghan replies, pouting yet doing nothing to rescue his cheek. Sanggyun's giggle turns into a cough and they decide it's time to get going, the cafe left in Woojin and Donghyun's capable hands. 

Sanggyun parks his old van outside the bus station. There's still remnants of the builder's work littering the patch of grass beside it. They trot a couple of streets away, hunched up against the freezing weather despite all the layers they're dressed in. A buzz of people and pop music on loud speakers reaches Kenta's ears before he sees the park. It's on the other side of a roundabout, kept watch over by a bronze, graffittied statue of a man in robes, a long beard curling to a point at his waist. A red wooden fence rings it, broken in places and looking a grim, maroonish brown under the endless grey clouds. Realistically, the crowd milling about amongst the colourful stalls isn't massive. But it's more people in one place than Kenta's seen since racing through Daegu train station months ago. Sanggyun nudges him, hands still hiding in the pocket of his parka. Kenta links arms with him, glad to let tall Donghan confidently lead the way through all the people, the din and the smells filling the air. 

There are a scattering of games, their prizes of cuddly toys and knock-off versions of famous character dolls all lined up under vintage looking signs in vivid colours. Amongst them are food stalls, clouds of steam forming above them in the ice cold air. Everything's quite cheap yet, by the time they've wound their way through and emerged into a quieter, more tree-covered section of the park, Kenta's wallet is significantly lighter. Donghan, holding two gamja dogs in one hand and fried squid in the other, looks at him and smiles a genuine, sweet smile. 

"Thanks, Hyung. This was fun." 

He has a spot of red sauce on his cheek. Kenta, nibbling on his own squid, can only snort and tell him it's nothing. 

"Hey, remember I bought you lemonade," Sanggyun pipes up. He has a greasy paper bag of fried fishcakes, though he hasn't eaten anything yet. Kenta has an idea the florist has something on his mind. But this is hardly the atmosphere to ask. Besides, it could just be because he's sick that he's a little off, and Kenta's reading the situation all wrongly. 

"Thank you, Gyun-hyung," Donghan coos. After a beat, he adds, "Geontae-hyung bought me food though."

"Brat!" Sanggyun barks, without animosity, while Donghan snickers and strides ahead, deeper into the park, "Pft, no respect for Ddanggyunnie," he whines. He's joking, but there's something about the way he says it, something in his eyes that makes Kenta look twice. Now he's sure that something's bothering him. Debating with himself, he concludes that they're friends now. Therefore, while it's just them two, it's OK to enquire. Just casually. Just as a bro. 

"What's up?" he asks, slapping a hand down on the other man's shoulder. 

"A surly knave's blood pressure, to be honest," Sanggyun blathers. 

"What?"

"Nothing. You want one? I'm not hungry." He's pointing the bag of fishcakes at Kenta. Frankly, the aroma of them is far more tempting than struggling to interpret whatever Sanggyun just said. Kenta spears one, letting himself be distracted from whatever's going on with the other. 

While Sanggyun hurries after long-legged Donghan, Kenta takes in his surroundings, gnawing peacefully on the lukewarm fishcake. The fair is down on the flat, grassy ring. It's treeless apart from a few spiny, thin ones by the fence, most of their branches twisted off by local kids. However, the park quite suddenly runs into a slope. Pebbled paths criss-cross upward, slung with bare, bony trees, ebony against the sky, and evergreens, their brittle needles strewn across the path and yellowed grass. A pair of old men are doing their exercises under one of the larger trees. They're playing their own music on a cheap mp3 player despite the noise from the speakers rising up to them from below, swinging their arms in time to some upbeat folk song. Handfuls of other peope are about, familes and couples and groups of teenagers. Almost everyone has toys and snacks from the fair in their arms. 

"Kenta-hyung! Our Geontae-hyung. Ken-san!" 

Kenta perks up at Donghan's hollering. He had spaced out, not noticing how the hill levelled off. Here the grass is longer, more wild. Odd mounds and dips reject the insipidly landscaped park they've passed through. Donghan is sitting up on a pillar of pockmarked concrete the shape of a mushroom stalk. He's kicking his legs, the pale blue jeans like a flag. Sanggyun's leaning against the thing - whatever it is. The ground rises up to it when you get close, suggesting a stack of rubble below hat the earth had long since grown over. What's above ground is almost as tall as him, reaching above his shoulders. Sanggyun's waving his hand to get Kenta's attention, a bundle of black and his scarlet gloves. It's not hard to spot them anyway, Kenta doesn't know why they're making such a ruckus. There's only a dozen or so people up here, taking selca or lunching on the grass despite the sub-zero temperatures.  

"What's this?" he asks when he's reached them, running his fingers over the rough stone. 

"All that's left of the railway. There used to be a few others, but they got smashed up," Sanggyun answers. 

"What were you doing, Hyung? We thought we'd lost you for a second," Donghan tells him, a teasing lilt to his voice. He's kicking his legs dangerously close to Kenta's head, so Kenta jabs his shin. (Then winces. Donghan's shins are harder than expected and now Kenta's finger is in pain). 

"Not much, just people-seeing." Kenta's not exactly sure why Donghan chuckles at that, but he's happy that the kid's happy. Donghan's brown hair has ended up swept messily to one side, despite there only being a light breeze. His face is flushed, his nose tipped with pink, and that spot of sauce is still sitting just where it was. Kenta could gaze up at him against the colourless sky all day. It's only because Donghan's happy. Because it radiates from him. There are so few beautiful things in this place. It's difficult not to indulge when he finds one. 

Kenta comes back to reality when Sanggyun heaves himself on to the concrete pillar. 

"What did you say?"

"Goldfish cakes," Donghan repeats, "The fish with red bean inside. I saved them so we can eat them together."

Kenta notices the bright yellow bag sitting in Donghan's lap. He must have retrieved it from one of the many pockets of his coat. Kenta only dimly remembers paying for the cakes. The stall owner's expression had born no resemblance to the simpering and smooching fish painted on her sign. 

"Oh right! I want one!"

"Better hurry," Sanggyun jokes, pinching a fish from the bag and ripping off its head. Kenta steps closer. He can place his hands on the top of the pillar, but getting the rest of the way up is likely to be a problem. He doesn't have time to calculate how best to go about this though. Donghan hops off his perch and secures and arm around Kenta's waist. 

"Lemme help," he mutters. Then Kenta's being lifted into the air. He yelps and slaps Donghan's elbow - not hard, because actually his tall friend _is_ being helpful. Kenta scoots onto the pillar easily. Donghan swings himself back up to sit in between his two hyungs. The arm loops its way around Kenta's waist again and a fish is dropped into his hands, still warm and moist and Kenta still feels a little like he's flying when he sinks his teeth into it, the sweet, nostalgic flavour on his tongue. 

"There really are a lot of couples, aren't there? I didn't notice it so much down there," he comments, spying a middle school couple nearby. The boy is clutching the girl's cherry pink backpack, his own on his back, while she snaps pictures of the view across town, "But up here it's feeling they're everywhere." 

"Aren't they just," Sanggyun remarks. There's a curl to his lips that Kenta thinks doesn't quite count as a smile. Once again, he wants to try asking. He's practically certain there's something up, that it's not simply because he's ill. But if he were to ask again, he's also practically certain Sanggyun would evade with another confusing answer. And besides, perhaps what Sanggyun wanted was to not talk about it just yet. To enjoy a stroll in the company of friends and be distant from whatever's bugging him. Kenta considers himself hardly in a position to query such behaviour. 

When Sanggyun's finished the last crumb of his fishcake, he re-affixes his mask and draws his feet up, sitting cross-legged on the pillar. He leans slightly against Donghan, nattering in a croaky voice about how 'this was great - that Kim Sanggyun has some awesome ideas - well, he's an awesome guy, so it makes sense'. Kenta follows suit, letting his head rest softly on Donghan's wide shoulders. The kid stiffens for a moment and Kenta frets hideously that he did something wrong; he was too presumptuous; the first group of friends he's made down here are going to reject him; just like too many others. But in a heartbeat, Donghan's arm tightens around his waist, his broad hand on Kenta's hip. Kenta forgets what he was worried about, almost forgets that he was worried. He bounces his heels against the concrete. His legs and bum are turning numb and they'll all have to leave to get back to work soon. But for now, Kenta inhales the fresh air, feels the ice in his lungs, and traces in his mind the heat of Donghan's arm around him. The view they're looking down on is nothing spectacular - an unlovely park and the town, squalid in parts - but right exactly now, Kenta can think of nothing else he wants. 


	7. Ⅱ-Ⅲ ~ 「メリクリ」ですが、本当にメリーですか。

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SoTaed, GyunKen double date ... kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem emo!Gyun mentions (and where the title of this story comes from) is [Sonnet 61](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonnet_61)

It's Christmas in two days. Kenta spots the date on his phone and suddenly, for the first time, he's bothered by the rapidly approaching holiday. It didn't bother him when he went to the florist's to order a more wintery display for outside his front door and in his window. It didn't bother him when he, Donghyun and Woojin were practising making the non-alcoholic mulled wine flavour red tea and Christmas pudding flavour cafe miel. The decorations flapping in the breeze when he walked to the supermarket, the Christmas songs playing in the shops, Woojin and his friends excitedly making plans for their day off school... None of it got under his skin. But now he's blinking at the date innocently displayed on his phone screen and it hits him like a KTX. This is the first Christmas since he was 19 years old that he'll be single. 

"You good, Boss?" Donghyun's peering at him in the mirror whilst trying to pinch a stray tuft of hair into place. 

"Yeah, I'm great, Donghyuni. I'm good." Even to his own ears, that was lacking in conviction. Donghyun gets the tuft into what he's deemed to be the correct position and shoots himself a grin. 

"You know what I've observed, Boss," he says, straightening up and stepping back to give Kenta a once over, "You don't wear a lot of your more popping outfits lately. Like, you had a pair of aqua marine chinos. And that shirt with the rainbow buttons. Those were wild. Maybe a different outfit would give you a lift." He gestures, bringing his hands up to his chest, palms upward. "Lift, lift. What do you think?"

Kenta peeks down at himself. Navy trousers, a similarly coloured cardigan with a red stripe up the sleeve and a cream shirt. 

"You... might be a point. This is comfortable though," he concedes, hesitant, tugging his sleeves over his knuckles. Kenta grimaces and rolls his shouders, tucking his hands behind his back. He'll think about that later, not now. "By the way, Donghyuni, what are your plans for Christmas?"

"Not much. Lunch with Mum and Hyung. Youngminnie-hyung and Woojinnie's families are more into it, so I'll shimmy over that way in the evening. We're gonna watch A Nightmare Before Christmas. I must be dreaming! Wake up, Jack, this isn't fair! You know what I mean?"

"Oh sure." He doesn't. "Sounds fun."

Donghyun tilts his head, his bottom lip jutting out. Clearly, he can still sense Kenta's mood is down. Kenta makes a mental note to do a better job of concealing it in front of the customers. Especially Mrs. Heo. Lately, she's been offering people advice based on her 'readings', but it usually involves giving to charity and praying for miracles. 

"How about you, Hyung?"

"Skype my parents in the morning. Then come down here. Close early and... That's all. No further plans." 

Donghyun snorts and jabs his shoulder. 

"You'll come up with something, Boss. There's still plenty of time."

Kenta supposes that's true. Even so, other than cry down the phone at Eunki, he can't think of much. Having limited options, he messages Sanggyun to ask what his house are doing. 

[Yonggukkie's calling his mum then he and hyunbin are are packing the cats off to hyunbin's grandma's house and getting a bus to daegu to go shopping]

[What about Sanggyunnie?]

[lol idk. I'm hearing Taedong's gonna be up but there's a display to work on for the star festival so i gotta go to the shop for a while anyway]

[after that idk]

[buy chicken & watch movies on my own i guess]

[>:(]

[Me too. Want to do it together?]

[I'd do it with u anytime kenchan ;)]

[Blocked!]

Kenta shoves his phone back under the counter and scans the cafe for something to busy himself with. Donghyun's serving their one customer her chai tea and plum cake, so he resorts to cleaning the spotlessly clean surfaces again. Well, he has a plan now. Being lonely together is better than being lonely alone, he tells himself with a sigh. 

The 25th arrives. Kenta had more customers throughout the day than he'd expected - people treating themselves to breakfast, a group of students from the folk music college who had nothing to do with their day off, a surprising number of people buying apology-coffees for a significant other... Nonetheless, by 6pm he's almost done cleaning and locking up. His phone buzzes with a new message. Kenta presumes it'll be Sanggyun telling him he's on his way. 

[Life is so hard, Tommy. Sometimes I think it's the hardest thing there is]

While Kenta is trying to decipher that and if it was meant for him or not, another message pops up. 

[To play the watchman ever for thy sake]

[or makgeolli?]

[Makgeolli? :D?]

[Call. We'll pick some up on the way]

[FYI, 2Tae are coming]

[I told Taehyonnie i had A Cabin In The Woods and an empty house and he invited himself over]

[that ok?]

[the more is the merrier :)]

[yep]

[there in 10]

During the ride in Sanggyun's van, Kenta takes the passenger seat while Taehyun and Taedong sit in the backseat. Taedong chats to him easily, considering they haven't seen all that much of each other since that trip to the temple. His hair is all black now and he looks happy and healthy, despite whatever it is that's keeping him going back and forth to Daegu all the time. He rains Kenta with questions - how's the business? How's he taking to their town? Is he missing his Seoul friends and his family back home? On the other hand, Taehyun might be asleep with his eyes open. Kenta remembers Sanggyun mentioning a festival and guesses the florists must be especially busy with that to prepare for on top of the usual Christmas rush. 

The Taes are holding hands loosely and Kenta, personally, happens to think they're adorable. There's a thickness in the atmosphere, however, telling him that now isn't the time to coo over the cute couple. Or that could just be the ancient fog of stenches that inhabit Sanggyun's van. Kenta's not really sure. 

The neighbourhood they end up in looks nicer than Kenta had expected. A narrow road lined with brown, two storey brick houses. They don't have gardens, but most have an array of plants and bamboo trees sprouting up in pots by their doors and on their window ledges. Some are beautifully cared for and bedecked with ribbons and bells and Christmas lights. Others are collecting fag ends. More importantly, two old willow trees are growing at either end of the street. Their bare branches look like furious ink sketches clawing at the evening sky. They must, Kenta imagines, be beautiful in spring, with fluffy catkins and soft, jade green leaves, when the winter's finally been blotted out. 

"Taedongie, you and Taehyun-hyung bring the booze. Me and Kenchan'll bring the food," Sanggyun declares as they pull up outside an unlit house. He grabs a couple of the bags that have been sitting by Kenta's feet and hurries ahead to unlock the door. Kenta hears Taedong organising the bottles and cans in the backseat while coaxing the half-awake Taehyun. 

"You sure you're up for this, Hyung-ah? I think you'll fall asleep during the movie." 

There's a mumble in response that Kenta can't make out, but it makes Taedong laugh, loud and clear. Anyway, Kenta can't care about the cute couple now. Despite the ride in the van making him queasy, now that they've stopped, his hunger and the aroma of chicken have counteracted that. He's ravenous and scurries after Sanggyun with the remaining bag of food swinging in his hand. 

Sanggyun doesn't bother with a tour of his house beyond, "The john is the last door upstairs if you want to take a slash." They drop the food on the counter - cramped with sauce bottles and an impressive collection of spices - in the tiny kitchen and retire to the much larger sitting room, where Sanggyun has hooked his notebook up to a huge flatscreen. 

"Where should we put the booze?" Taehyun yells from the hallway. 

"In Kenta!" Kenta hollers back. And there it is again, Taedong's high laughter and Taehyun's lower, sleepy chuckle. When Sanggyun tells them wherever, they come in and deposit the heavy bags next to the coffee table where Sanggyun's notebook is sitting open. Taehyun immediately plucks a plump, lemon-yellow cushion from one of the tatty armchairs and sits on the heated floor by Kenta. He rests his head against the arm of the sofa, closing his eyes, his shoulders slumped. 

"Hyung's really tired, right?" Kenta comments, voice gentle. 

"It's nothing," Taehyun denies, his eyes still closed, "There's just a bridezilla who keeps changing everything she wants. She's exhausting."

"What's bridezilla?"

"Terrible women who exist to make my life hell." Taehyun finally cracks his eyes open, peeking up at Kenta with a reassuring smile, "I don't know why she's even getting married in January. She should wait till summer like a normal person."

"Then she won't be make your life hell in summer," Kenta points out, "Because she's already done it now."

"Oh! You're right!" Taehyun clicks his fingers, grinning at that thought. Then, Kenta _thinks_ he hears Sanggyun mutter under his breath, "If we're still open next summer." But Taehyun makes no sign of having heard, still jokingly telling Kenta how clever he is, and Taedong, who's hovering by the sofa, unsure where to sit, asks, 

"Do you need a hand, Gyun-hyung?"

The moment's passed and Kenta assumes he simply misheard the locals again. 

"Yes," Sanggyun admits, pursing his lips at the wires leading into his computer, "You take over, Taedongie. I'll get everyone food."

The movie is in English with Korean subtitles. Normally, that would be easier for Kenta to understand, but seeing as he spends much of the movie with his head buried in Sanggyun's shoulder, the subtitles don't help him much at all. Sanggyun had told him it was a comic-horror, but it seems more like horrific-horror to Kenta. He'd be mad if he weren't too busy being terrified. The other three laughing at it (and Kenta's misery) don't help matters. 

One thing that's surprising, is that Sanggyun, who claims to dislike skinship, hugs him loosely all that time. Kenta speculates, perhaps Sanggyun only claims not to like it to keep Donghan and Hyunbin at bay - not unreasonable. Either that, or maybe Sanggyun just needs the contact himself that night. Sometimes people do. Lord knows Kenta's felt that way often enough in recent months. 

Taedong and Taehyun sit together on the floor. Taehyun still has that lemon-yellow cushion in his arms, head resting on Taedong's shoulder. Taedong's hugging an ugly, giant rabbit plushie, purple, with button eyes, that Kenta feels certain must be Hyunbin's. Taehyun does doze through most of the film, even with all the jump-scares and his boyfriend and Sanggyun's occasional, hyena-like laughter. That being the case, they don't stay for long after the movie's finished, just chatting and picking at the remaining morsels of chicken for a bit before calling themselves a taxi. Kenta stays a while longer, sitting up on the sofa with his arms wrapped around his legs. 

"This was good even though it was bad," he comments. He realises he should clarify that statement, but he's too sleepy and tipsy to decide how. Either way, Sanggyun plops down beside him, reaches for what's left of his can of beer and states profoundly, 

"Word."

"It's not so bad being a single when it's Christmas," Kenta goes on, the makgeolli making his tongue loose, "It's not the most bad."

Sanggyun clicks his tongue. 

"I don't know," he drawls, "It still kinda sucks. Although, I should be a dab hand at it by now, I guess."

Kenta squints at the black screen of Sanggyun's notebook while he thinks hard. 

"'Dab hands' means you're usually a single when it's Christmas?"

Sanggyun snorts. He holds up three fingers. 

"Including this year. You'd think I'd be used to it. But sometimes it's just, kind of..." He trails off, his gaze seemingly on the mess of cushions and things on the floor. There's the one Taehyun had and that weird rabbit doll, as well as a few other smaller cushions and a stray cat-toy. Sanggyun's just lost in his own thoughts, Kenta supposes. A loose thread on his cuffs catches his attention. He twists it around his finger and yanks it off. He's thinking he'll have to head home soon, and he's thinking how dark the cafe will be when he gets there. Dark and empty and cold. 

"From me far off with others all too near," Sanggyun mutters. Kenta cocks his head. 

"What?"

"Nothing. Did you mean that you're not usually single at Christmas?" He turns to Kenta, his expression so pleasant and engaged that it's easy to imagine he hadn't just been staring into some abyss inside himself. 

"From I was 19," Kenta replies, quickly counting the years up, "So it's five Christmases with a partner and one with you."

Sanggyun giggles and lightly shoves Kenta's shoulder. But Kenta can see his brain processing the information. He asks Kenta, almost with awe, if it was the same partner for those five years. When Kenta nods, he gapes, 

"Wow. That's something. Is the break-up why you came here?"

Kenta shrugs. Yes - the answer is yes. But he has rapidly discovered that he's not as ready to talk about Sanghyun and their split as he'd thought he was. 

"Pretty much. I couldn't afford the rent without him." 

"It's a long way to come for cheaper rents," Sanggyun quips, but Kenta only smiles crookedly and knocks back the last of his drink. 

"Will you call me a taxi, please? I'm going to..." He tries to recall the slang Sanggyun used earlier, clasping his hands together in victory when it finally comes to him, "Make a stash!"

Sanggyun's grin when he's reaching for his phone is earsplitting. As Kenta makes his way upstairs in the dark, he thinks to himself that at least he's accomplished something that night. Later on he'll video call Eunki from his favourite spot in the cafe, electric lights blazing above and dried flowers covered in spray paint and glitter wreathing his head. Behind him the couple on the vintage movie poster gurn dramatically. At this point, Kenta will accomplish another outstanding feat, when he succeeds in not crying even once. 


	8. Ⅲ-Ⅰ ~ 星たちが君のために輝きます

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Star Festival arrives~☆★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not at all sure the Japanese is correct this time :x lmao. Feel free to correct me if I've messed up any of the chapter titles. I haven't studied Japanese in years, so it'll be amazing if I _haven't_ screwed up, lol

Donghan, Hyunbin and Yongguk arrive for lunch on the coldest day of winter. There's no snow, but an arid, frozen wind is battering the town, whipping around the mountains and redoubling its strength. The tiny part of their skin that's visible is pink and raw from cold, but when Donghan pushes back his hood, he has a white iris pinned in his black hair. Kenta comes over to greet them and Donghan spirits another one from a pocket, tucking it behind Kenta's ear. The act is surprising enough, the roughness of Donghan's fingers ghosting the shell of his ear leaving him off balance, that Kenta momentarily forgets about the rich aroma from the take-out boxes in Hyunbin and Yongguk's arms. 

"Isn't there a flower for them?" he asks. 

"No, that would be a waste."

As long as that made sense to the kids and Kenta has his pretty flower, he's disinclined to question Donghan further. 

"Is that from your auntie's restaurant?" he asks, although the smell is familiar and unmistakable. Yongguk nods happily and Hyunbin grins a broad grin, swinging his bag of food and coming unwittingly close to knocking Mr. Hong's glass of tea all over an epic game of baduk. 

"It's too cold to go out more than necessary. We thought we could eat here. Or upstairs? Whatever you like."

Kenta tells them upstairs in the flat is fine, but to wait a moment while he makes sure the place is decent. As he leaves the cafe, he hears Donghyun ask teasingly if Donghan brought a flower for him too. 

"Naturally," Donghan asserts, drawing the iris from his hair, "I'll give you this if you give me a kiss."

The last thing he hears before the door swings shut is Donghyun's "scandalised" gasp and Hyunbin's oddly deep throated giggle. 

His flat is clean. It generally is. Kenta's a neat person. Some of his neat habits were instilled by Sanghyun, others he had all along. Kenta potters for a minute, drying the one mug on the draining board and making sure the door to his bedroom is closed. He sleeps in there about half the time now. There's one picture of his parents on the squat black bedside table and a dried, unnaturally blue zinnia hangs in the handle of his wardrobe. After all this time, there's barely any more decoration in the rest of the flat. As if an apparition had just run through him, Kenta understands precisely why he's dallying. It doesn't matter that he doesn't like this flat. He's worried if _they'll_  like this place, like him. Will they think he belongs even if he's not so sure himself? No one's ever visited the flat while it's been his - it's not used to having more than one soul rattling inside. 

Kenta takes a deep breath. Enough, he decides. He hops downstairs and waves the kids up with a smile on his face, a tremor of uncertainty in his heart. 

They eat their beef stew and bean-rice sitting around Kenta's sitting room. The radio's on, though no one's listening to it much. Hyunbin keeps staring out the window. Eventually, he tramples into Kenta and Donghan's deep conversation about TVXQ to announce,

"You can see my house from here! How cool! Your apartment's cool, Hyung."

Kenta leaves his food, getting up from his seat on the floor to go see. (Donghan immediately helps himself to most of Kenta's remaining rice, giving him a slice of beef in return). Kenta's confused at first. Hyunbin's pointing off beyond their shabby grey and brown town. After that there's only the mountains, the farms, leading on to the forests and... _Oh my_. In amongst the forested areas are a scattering of houses. They're great ,three storey affairs, with a profundity of rooms, lights lining winding driveways, and high, wrought iron gates protecting them from local farmers and the occasional passing dog. The one Hyunbin's pointing out is painted a bright yellow, like a single buttercup surrounded by wild grass. 

"Is your house nice, Hyunbini?" Kenta enquires, for want of something better to say, feeling self-conscious at the giant kid's side. He recalls that soft, leather wallet Hyunbin had forgotten at the cafe that day last autumn. Kenta had sort of forgotten that Hyunbin was a rich kid - he rarely acts like it. 

"It's OK. I prefer living with Sanggyunnie-hyung and Yonggukkie-hyung, even though our side of the house sometimes stinks of kitty," he replies with an easy, infectious smile. Yongguk hadn't appeared to be paying attention to any of them, yet be places extra beansprouts and kimchi on Hyunbin's dish then. Inhaling deeply the spicy, comforting smells from their lunch, Kenta drops back down to sit beside Donghan on the floor. Their legs brush, but, before Kenta can shuffle over a hair, Donghan's big hand lands on his knee, squeezing gently. Kenta's happy they're here, he tells himself. He's happy the kids came to where he lives now. His heart tells him that it's true. 

Apart from Yongguk's distressingly weak knowledge of TVXQ's back-catalogue, the other thing Kenta learns that lunch time is where the star festival is held. He'd already juggled Woojin's schedule around to allow him to go on an outing there with his friends that Saturday. At that time, however, Kenta had been distracted by paperwork. The moment to quiz his younger waiter for details had passed. But the kids inform him it's in a neighbouring village. They grow irises and hellebores there and the mayor happens to be obsessed with star-gazing. To coincide with the first blooms, he instigated the festival, with star parties at night and themed displays and a parade throughout the village. He's told some flower farms open up to the public during the day. Kenta straight away lights up at the idea of visiting and wandering amongst the blooms. Perhaps unsurprisingly though, the florists show not a jot of interest. 

And of course, there's streetfood. Donghan tells him not to eat much before they go because "everything's more delicious that you'd think". Kenta doesn't remember agreeing to go in the first place, but he's mostly talked around by the time they're all done eating. Back downstairs, Donghan whispers something to Donghyun and, all of a sudden, the boy is squawking at Kenta to follow his heart and swearing that half of their customers will be at the festival anyway, so he may as well go. 

That's how Kenta finds himself on an old minibus on Friday afternoon. The bus shakes when it goes over 50kph, but they speed noisily into the hills and through that little spot where they stopped to see the temple. The vehicle, painted a vivid lilac, is half-full. The floor is gritty and the seats at the back smell mouldy. The driver sports a cloud of grey hair and an aroma of pear drops. Inside, it's only marginally less cold than it is outside, and Kenta's grateful to have Yongguk sleeping, leaning on his side and Donghan's extra scarf around his shoulders. 

The bus turfs them out on a long stretch of road. The light's already faded from the sky. There are only a very few streetlamps, but colourful lanterns dot the landscape and a constant flow of people ramble in either direction. The driver has conjured a bottle of vodka from below his seat before all his passengers have gotten off. He rasps that he's heading back at 10pm on the dot if they want to go home then. Kenta thanks all the gods he can ride back with Sanggyun. 

Donghan's hunched in on himself, like he can hardly stand to open his eyes, exposing them to the cold. But he thrusts his arm out form his pocket and, after a couple of tries, finds Kenta's shoulder and yanks him closer. 

"We should go find the hyungs first. Let's go," he grunts, jerking his head towards the left. 

"You sure it's that way, Donghan-ah?" Hyunbin checks, peering curiously this way and that. (Similarly to Donghan, Yongguk is curled in on himself, buried beneath multiple, puffy layers, tired eyes screwed shut against the cold air. Frankly, Kenta feels that Hyunbin ought to have hugged him for warmth by now, too. Otherwise, what's the point of having a big and huggable friend?). 

"Taehyun-hyung said it's left when you're facing the pink dog," Donghan tells them. 

Sure enough, across the road there is a dog-shaped lantern on a plinth, a paw raised in greeting. It's pink with yellow stars and surrounded by flowers and dog toys. A sign for a local pet groomer's stands at its paws, bathed in the soft, rosy light. Kenta lets himself be tugged along past more displays. The Chinese year of the dog is coming, so there are a lot of those. But there are also doves (the symbol of the region), either as lanterns or as dolls wearing pince-nez and sitting atop of everything from postboxes to the pubic lavatory. There are puppets made by local school kids, stargazing rabbits glowing green in the night, a wooden model of a boy placing a black hellebore in a girl's hair...

"Doesn't that flower mean something like 'scandal'?" Kenta asks, pointing the wooden couple out to Donghan. He has to lean in, gripping Donghan's arm and speaking close to his ears. There's a man busking in the middle of the road and he and his flute have attracted quite a crowd. 

"Hm? Like flower language? Fuck knows. You should ask Sanggyunnie-hyung, he's better at that stuff. Well, he has a book about it somewhere." 

Kenta nods, although he can't help a twinge of disappointment at that response. It must show on his treachourous face. Donghan rubs his arm through the bulky parka and asks, 

"Do you like it? The black flowers."

"I prefer the white iris you have given me," Kenta decides, picturing the little blossom sitting in a makeshift vase on his sitting room window. Donghan doesn't say anything, but beams more brightly than any of the lanterns. 

It's not long before they hear a welcome voice yelling over the music playing from various stalls and all the noise of the visitors milling about. 

"Take it off! You said you're not cold, so take it off, Sanggyunnie! What if you over-heat? Better to give me your coat and just wear your shirt, right?"

They walk in on Taehyun wrestling Sanggyun's coat off his shoulders and Sanggyun attempting to hold it close with one hand and hold Taehyun back with the other. 

"I was wrong, I was wrong! Ddanggyunnie's very cold!" Sanggyun confesses, laughing breathlessly. He'd leaned over in his efforts to stop his friend from undressing him. With the couple of inches he has on Taehyun, that was enough to almost lift the shorter man off his feet. Rather than right the matter, he bends over further, managing to scoop Taehyun into a piggyback. Letting out a yelp that he'll certainly deny to his grave, Taehyun tightens his hold around Sanggyun's neck. He looks set to unleash a string of friendly curses - that won't do anything to help them attract customers - when Hyunbin whistles, waving his hand high in the air, 

"Hi, Hyungs! How's business?" 

They freeze. Taehyun slides off Sanggyun, keeping a loose hold on him, stretching up to rest his chin on his friend's shoulder. Even in the dim lights illuminating the festival, they can all see how Sanggyun's face has turned red as the hollyberries above the cafe door. 

Taehyun lets Donghan and Hyunbin know about a couple of events they've secured - there's a first birthday in one of the rich farming families, plus the mayor's daughter has very specific requirements for her 15th birthday party. Meanwhile, Kenta sidles up to Sanggyun, Yongguk - who has somewhere acquired a garlicky sausage - at his side. 

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Kenta's not sure he should believe him. "How was the ride up here?"

"Bumpy," Kenta grimaces, letting the florist change the subject, "Yonguki kept me warm though."

Yongguk smiles guilelessly at that. It might be the first smile since they departed that afternoon. Kenta's hungry and figures that he'd smile more too if he had garlicky sausage.

"Is this what you worked on in Christmas?" he asks, nodding to the display behind them. It's a boat, the name Fave Flowers stencilled on the side. A couple on deck are posing like they're in Titanic and gazing up at the stars. The roaring sea is made up of flowers in all shades of blue and green and white crests of the waves. The starry sky, likewise, is a swirl of blacks and purples, dotten with white and pale yellow. Sanggyun bashfully tells him how Taedong constructed it and he and Taehyun draughted the design. 

"Then we all put it together. It took a few tries to get it to come out right. There's a prize for the best display on the last day of the festival. We never win because they always give it to a villager. But it's getting a lot of attention this year."

"It does look really cool, Hyung," Yongguk asserts through a last mouthful of sausage. 

"Hey~ Thanks, Yongguk-ah," Sanggyun cheers, eyes crinkling into crescents. The next moment, Taehyun hits his back and he squeaks. The shorter man smirks up at him. 

"What was that? Where's your head at?"

"In the gutter, looking up at the stars, Taehyonnie."

Evidently used to such outbursts, Taehyun merely pats Sanggyun's back where he'd hit him and goes on telling him what he'd intended to. 

"The kids are gonna eat and look around. You go too."

"Huh? No, you go. I can man the fort for a while."

Taehyun's on the point of protesting, but Yongguk reminds him about a caramelised sweet potato stand down the road. Taehyun's resolve crumbles before their eyes. 

"OK. But I'm bringing you back something hot," he grumbles as Hyunbin is enveloping him in a hug and leading him away. 

Around the same time their driver is finishing his vodka and carrying his brave passengers back to town, the food and game stalls are closing up, and half the village and its visitors collectively decide to climb the hill behind the village hall. At the top, is the mayor's spacious house and its even more spacious garden. The hedges have been strung with lights and a plywood sign painted by the school kids reads 'Welcome to our star Fest'. It's the amateur astronomers' time to shine. A range of binoculars and telescopes are brought out to bring the spangled sky closer. 

Hyunbin, Yongguk and Taehyun are the most excited. Hyunbin's audibly amazed by every glimpse through a telescope. Yongguk gets into a surprisingly deep conversation with one of the professionals. Taehyun's exhaustion catches up to him sooner than he'd like. He returns to where their group have sat themselves in the small, heated marquee and throws himself down beween Sanggyun and Donghan. 

"I saw Saturn," he announces proudly. 

"Has it changed since last year?" Sanggyun enquires, sipping on the chicken soup, quickly turning cold and gloopy, Taehyun bought him earlier. Taehyun's chin comes up. 

"Don't judge me," he snaps. There's little heat in it. 

Kenta pays no mind to their bickering. If he leans back, he can gaze through the see-through plastic roof at the stars. He's never seen a sky so full. The more he looks, the more pinpricks of crystal light emerge. Earlier, he almost toppled off the metal stool in his fascination. Donghan caught him, and now he's leaning back on his friend's chest, able to gaze at the stars to his heart's content. Donghan's fingers tap out a rhythm on Kenta's stomach. He's whispering a story about the constellations into Kenta's ears. The story's nonsense. Something about a dog coming down from heaven to find someone to play with. Kenta realised it was nonsense a couple of sentences in. Still he lets Donghan go on, enjoying the sound of his voice, the vibration of it against his skin. Warm and safe and terribly tired, he could sleep right there amongst the stars.   


	9. Ⅲ-Ⅱ ~ 会いたかった Yes!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some explanation about what's been up with the florists, and ice-cream to heal hearts and pick up boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations on getting your first win, Donghannie!!  
> It's blink and you'll miss it, but the poem Sanggyun references is [Sonnet 17](http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/17).

After signing the final document that shows the cafe is now officially, legally his, Kenta does two things. The first thing is that he goes home and changes into his magenta trousers with sunflowers on the pockets. (This is more for Donghyun's benefit. The waiter hasn't stopped saying how he misses Kenta's brighter clothes and he's convinced it'd make his boss feel better to bring them back into rotation. Considering 99% of Donghyun's clothes are white, black or dark blue, Kenta suspects the kid's giving him cheek. But in any case, celebratory magenta trousers can't hurt). The second thing Kenta does is go out and buy hair dye and a bag full of ice-creams. 

Actually, the weather's still cold. But just as rapidly as January's siberian wind came, so it departed. The misty, cool days they're having now are comparatively balmy. Birds flutter amidst the trees, green buds shyly open up to the year, and Kenta has a craving. He ambles home with a spring in his step, wondering if buying one of every flavour counts as going overboard. As if in answer to this concern, when he arrives back, Seonho, Daehwi and Haknyeon are hanging out at their usual table, gossiping over something on Daehwi's phone. 

"Good afternoon, Kids! Would you like an ice-cream?" 

Like puppies hearing a tin open, their heads pop up in unison, eyes focused on the plastic bag at Kenta's side. Daehwi's first, he fishes out a watermelon lolly, but Haknyeon vacillates. 

"I don't know. I'm supposed to be dieting."

"It's free though," Daehwi reminds him, concentrating on unwrapping his own treat, "Free food doesn't count."

Haknyeon stares at Daehwi with eyes full of stars. Thanking Kenta politely, he takes the king size triple chocolate honeycomb berry split from the bag. 

"I'm sad, so I might need two," Seonho suggests, widening his eyes as he gawps up at Kenta. While it's blatant that he's trying to make puppy eyes, Seonho is, nevertheless, obnoxiously good at making puppy eyes. Kenta has to will himself to hold back and ask, 

"But why are you sad?"

It turns out Woojin and Jihoon have uploaded pictures from their graduation trip. The kids haven't even officially graduated yet. But Donghyun and Youngmin assured Kenta that Woojin really did study as much as he (volubly) claimed to have. So Kenta advanced him a small chunk of his wages and now Woojin's snowboarding with his Jihoon-who-is-just-a-bro. Apparently, it looks more exciting than the highschoolers had been prepared for. 

"Isn't it cool?" Daehwi sighs. 

"We're jealous," Seonho confesses, setting his unwrapped strawberry ice-cream cake down while he peels the wrapper from his caramel peanut ice-cream. 

"I'm not jealous because I'm going down to Grandauntie's farm soon," Haknyeon admits happily, "But I'm here to commiserate with the lonely people."

"That's very good of you," Kenta praises, then leaves the highschoolers to their nonsense. He goes to put the remaining ice-creams in the cafe's ice-box so that Donghyun can have one when his break comes up. And Donghan if he comes in. 

About a month ago, Kenta was still telling himself not to anticipate too much. Not to feel too disappointed if he ended up lunching on his own that day. If he didn't expect, he couldn't be let down. Kenta has given up. He was never good at concealing his feelings, least of all from himself. He likes being with friends and he hates being alone. He likes being thought of, and he really really likes being thought of by a handsome younger guy with piercing eyes and a cute mouth, who could lift Kenta over his head should he so wish. 

This is a little bit of a problem. Donghan doesn't turn up to have lunch with him that day. Nor the next. It's always been the giant bringing along the others, should they come, so Kenta's not surprised when none of the others show up either. Nonetheless, by the end of the week, he's grown worried. He's not sure what to do about his worry. Send a message? _None of you have taken me for lunch this week, so I'm concerned about your health_? Not likely. Kenta resolved to fret quietly to himself. 

Not quietly enough, it would seem. On Sunday, when doing his deliveries, Youngmin - who is invariably sleepy before noon - upon receiving a sharp look from Donghyun, hands Kenta a chocolate eclair wrapped in pretty green paper and sprinkled with hundreds-and-thousands. Pressing the little package of sweetness into Kenta's hands, he tells him around a yawn that today's a good day to meet up with someone. Kenta guesses that this is Donghyun's way of trying to subtly send a message. Also, he sincerely feels that it would have been less embarrassing had the waiter grabbed a loud speaker and run through the streets proclaiming, "Hear ye, hear ye! That one Japanese guy likes that one tall idiot!" Having said that, Kenta has a chocolate eclair now, so he doesn't feel like finding fault. 

After what passes for a lunch time rush in this town is over, the only customers left in the cafe are Mr. Shim and Mr. Hong squabbling over baduk and Mrs. Heo gleefully egging them on. Kenta leaves them in Donghyun's care, taking six cups of cherry blossom macchiato and his favourite star-pattern scarf and heading to the florist's. 

The walk there is familiar to him now. Still, with spring stealing into town, he notices things anew. Birds are flocking to devour the new buds on the spindly trees dotting the path. Their chirping fills the overcast sky, joyfully demanding to be heard. When he passes by 'Grandma Choi's'. Doghyun's aunt is outside, having a fag break. He waves to her. She waves back with a gummy smile then hocks a sizeable glob of phlegm into the pothole in front of her restaurant. Kenta walks faster. 

That tiny park is just as waterlogged and bleak as ever. The new leaves haven't yet come out and, besides, the litter strewn beneath the few trees doesn't help. Unusually, there are people in in today. A few girls are practising a dance routine to a Sistar song. They're wearing matching pink shorts and knee socks, so Kenta reckons it's for one of the highschools' festivals. He recognises the girl with braces and pigtails as one of Seonho's friends. But then, if Seonho's to be believed, most people within a 100 km radius count as 'one of his friends'. 

At the shop, Kenta finds Hyunbin talking to a middle-aged man about pink camellias and Sanggyun teasing a tall wire frame into shape. Sanggyun greets him, eyes lighting up when he spots the drinks. 

"You brought too many," he points out when they've unpacked them and taken seats on squeaky stools behind the counter, "It's only me and Hyunbin today. And Taehyonnie's upstairs."

"That's OK. You can put them in a fridge. They're still tasty cold, only less prettier. Where are Donghana and Taedongie?" Kenta's sure he can guess the answer, already picturing Donghan's pout whenever he brings up having to go do a shift at his parent's shop. Kenta's smiling over that thought, so that he doesn't immediately pick up the tightness in Sanggyun's voice when he answers. 

"Donghannie's helping his parents stock-take all this week. Boring. And Taedongie's... Well, he's back in Daegu."

"Oh. He was here often lately. He's busy again?"

"Er, something like that. I- Actually," Sanggyun glances over to where Hyunbin's still chatting up the customer. His voice drops and Kenta finally looks up from the frothy pinkness in his cardboard cup. "Don't mention Taedong for now. He won't be coming back. Not for a while anyway."

Just then, Hyunbin strides over with the customer and takes payment for a pricey bouquet that, from the sounds of it, will be an effervescence of pink and red. Kenta assumes the man must be particularly keen to apologise to someone. He and Sanggyun keep polite smiles afixed while the transaction's taking place. As the door swings shut behind the man, Hyunbin turns to them, expecting praise. His face falls. 

"What's up with the atmosphere?"

"I was," Sanggyun coughs, "Gonna explain to Kenta about the situation."

"Oh," Hyunbin glumly draws in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, "The situation."

Kenta had known that Taedong wasn't, ultimately, the owner of Fave Flowers. It belonged to his parents. They owned a number of small businesses in the region. That was what had been told to Kenta. If they were training Taedong to take a greater part in their work, then it made sense, Kenta supposed, that he was coming and going all the time. No one had offered more information and Kenta hadn't seen a reason to ask. 

But that was only a sliver of the whole story. Rather than building their businesses, his parents are selling them. Both Taedong's paternal grandparents are still alive and increasingly sick with dementia. His parents want them to get the best care - and to stay together as long as possible. That sort of care costs money. Rents from a few unprofitable shops weren't going to cut it. They've made the decision to sell the properties. 

"They've sold everything but this one healthfood store in Daegu city that they manage themselves. Taedong's decided to move there and put everything into helping them," Hyunbin informs him, absentmindedly pushing the foam in his cup around with the wooden stirrer. His shoulders are slumped - more than his habitual stoop. Kenta's instincts want to drop everything just to hug him. Instead, he prods, 

"Everything? But you're still here."

Sanggyun laughs flatly. 

"Us too. Taedong talked his parents into selling to Taehyun. It's ended up as a ridiculous mortgage. He doesn't have to pay much per month, but he's going to be paying it for a couple of hundred years and... None of them are happy about the final result. Except that we're still here."

"And them?" Kenta asks, tentative. 

Hyunbin pouts at his drink and Sanggyun twists uncomfortably. 

"Like I was saying, just dont' mention Taedongie around Hyung. He says he's fine, but the age to come would say 'this poet lies'."

Kenta nods, absorbing the news. He frequently doesn't understand everything Sanggyun says - Yongguk's promised him that's not just because he's a foreigner - but he's understood enough. He wants to do something to help. But what can he do when these two are telling him to act like nothing's different?

"By the way, Hyung," Hyunbin's deep voice rumbles into his thoughts, "Since when are you blond?"

"Oh! I did this the other day," Kenta says, twirling a lock around his finger. It doesn't feel like an appropriate moment to reveal _why_  he dyed it again. "Is it OK?" Kenta rather likes it. And Donghyun says he likes - but Donghyun says a lot of things. Hyunbin, on the other hand, is exacting about his appearance. Kenta is expecting an honest response. 

"Its fire," Hyunbin tells him sincerely. Kenta's not good at slang, but he knows that one. That means he's hot. 

"Yay! Thank you, Hyunbini," he cheers with a wide smile, not caring that his silly fang tooth is poking out and he has pink foam on his lip. When he glances over, Sanggyun is beaming at him a bit like Kenta is a teddy bear Sanggyun wants to squish. Kenta doesn't really see what he did to deserve that. But so long as the atmosphere's better now, he tells himself, dabbing delicately at his lip with a napkin. 

He can't sleep. Throwing back his blankets, Kenta groans into the darkness of his flat. He plods back downstairs, socked toes curling on the chilly floor. The stairs creak petulantly as he goes. He flicks on the lights, opens the ice-box, takes a photo, and plops down on the floor. It's cold, so he pulls his knees close to his chest. Tired eyes squint at his phone as the image sends. 

[I bought ice-creams]

[But you haven't come to eat your :< ]

[D:]

[Keep it for me. I can see hyung tomorrow]

[:)]

[Did hyung miss me?]

[Yes :< ]

It takes a while for another message to arrive. Kenta scolds his heart for beating too fast and his head for inventing things to worry about. They're friends. He's allowed to miss him. He's allowed to want to see him. 

[I missed hyung too]

[I'm sorry I haven't been around. I thought I could go the other day, but Grandma came for the day]

[And I thought I could go today, but I had to go with Mum to see a supplier in Pohang]

[It's OK Donghana :)]

[If it's OK the why are you texting me at 1am?]

[Not that you shouldn't]

[It's good to know you think about me late at night ;) ]

[I am texting you because your ice-cream is holding up space in my refrigerator >:( ]

[Come eat it >:( Or I must give it to Donghyunnie]

[Don't you dare D:< ]

[See you tomorrow, Geontae-hyung ♥ ]

[Good night :) ♡ ]

Kenta breathes a long sigh. Not ready to slog back upstairs, he rests his head on his knees, arms wrapped around his legs. He feels good now, and he wonders if he'll sleep. His heart's doing things and his stomach is aflutter. His skin tingles and his thoughts are a mess. Gosh, he hasn't felt this way since he was 19.  


	10. Ⅲ-Ⅲ ~ 初月

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year's fireworks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's also a bit blink and you'll miss it, but Sanggyun brings back [A Red Red Rose](https://allpoetry.com/A-Red,-Red-Rose).

The amount of firepower sitting in colourful packages at Hyunbin and Donghan's feet is impressive, to say the least. Unnerving and possibly illegal, to say a bit more. But they casually picked all these fireworks up from stalls set up along the roads around town and no one seems perturbed about letting them off right in the middle of the street in the quiet neighbourhood where Sanggyun, Yongguk and Hyunbin live.

"We need a practice run, Hyung."

"We'll be safe, Hyung."

Taehyun doesn't look up from barbecueing sausages on the disposable grill they've put up beneath the willow tree.

"Yeah, yeah. Do what you like, Kids. Just save some for midnight."

The two overgrown children race down the street to light one of the bigger fireworks. The Chinese characters on the side say something like Vengeful Chicken Supernova. Neither Kenta nor Yongguk have told them this because they're uncertain whether it would dampen (good) or enhance (bad) the kids' giddiness.

A distressed murmuration reaches his ears and he peeks down. Yongguk is crouching near the grill because he wants sausages. He also has the two cats inside his jacket because he wants to protect them from the vengeful chicken that's about to explode. Of course, Tolbi and Rcy can smell meat, and they don't see why sausages ought to be kept from them. Their little, furry heads keep popping our to sniff. Yongguk's troubled.

"Would you like me to hold one?" Kenta offers, stooping down to catch the musician's attention.

"Would you?" he huffs, already gently taking little Rcy out with one hand whilst securing the other side of his jacket to prevent Tolbi squirreling out to freedom with the other. "Careful with her."

Kenta holds the tiny grey scruff in his arms, close to his chest. She sniffs his sleeve a few times then seems to accept her newly elevated status, curling up and closing her eyes.

"5, 4, 3, ah fuck!"

There's a piercing shriek and a bang. A burst of pink and green sparks that quickly fizzle out, leaving only a lingering, acrid smell. Even Rcy only glances above Kenta's arms before concluding she's better off going back to sleep. Kenta thinks it's a fair judgement. However, on the other side of their barbecue, Sanggyun's hacking, pounding at his chest.

"Ugh! That gave me a shock," he gripes between coughs, "You guys made me choke on

perfectly good beer."

"Sorry, Hyung!" Hyunbin _looks_  contrite. Donghan, though, asserts that they did a countdown so it's hardly their fault. Taehyun is chuckling while he pierces a pork-rice sausage.

"Can you eat?" he asks, deeming it ready.

"I'll struggle on," Sanggyun wheezes, greedily eyeing the skewered food in Taehyun's hands.

A hand tugs Kenta's hair, demanding attention. In a second, Donghan's arms are draped around him, his chin on Kenta's bony shoulder.

"Have you kidnapped Rcy?"

"Yes. I'll feed her lattes to make her love me."

Yongguk cranes his neck up, giving them a long look. Eventually,

"Hyung won't," he concludes, returning his attention to the grill.

Donghan's fingers are in Kenta's hair again. That's been happening a lot these few days. It felt like he was irritated that Kenta hadn't told him he'd dyed it. But it wasn't that Kenta hadn't told _him_  - he hadn't told anyone. He'd just done it.

"In this light, your almost the same colour as them," he murmurs into Kenta's ear. And Kenta, distracted by the heat of Donghan's breath on his neck, completely misses what he meant by 'them'.

"Wha... Them?"

"There. The flowers." He follows where Donghan's pointing now. Outside Sanggyun's neighbour's house, there are boxes of evening primroses. Their sweet scent is drawing in moths, who flutter silently through dusk. Their delicate petals shimmer electric yellow under the streetlamps. For a moment, Kenta only gazes at them. The fresh scents of spring arriving; the flowers opening up in the night; the tender green leaves of the willow tree; the insects that dance in the air; as if hope unfurls with the plants soft petals. But then he elbows Donghan in the ribs.

"My hair is not that brightly! Gosh, Donghana!"

Donghan only sniggers, rocking Kenta in his arms.

"Eat meat!" Yongguk all-but yells to get their attention. He's holding two skewered sausages up for them. Inside his jacket a little black and white face is determinedly readying to pounce. Donghan collects the skewers and Tolbi sinks back to bide his time.

Later on, they're sprawled around the sitting room, a music show on TV that no one's watching. Sanggyun, Donghan, Yongguk and Taehyun are squeezed on to the couch, playing some drinking game. Kenta couldn't follow the rules. (He's pretty sure Donghan was adding new ones as he went. 'Take a shot if you're from anywhere east of Daegu', what on earth was that?). Anyway, his alcohol tolerance isn't high enough to keep up even had he wanted to. He counted himself out a while ago - disregarding Sanggyun and Donghan's protestations - and is sitting on the floor, giggling as it gets rowdier.

He grabbed that purple rabbit to hug, and it really is comfortable, big enough to rest his chin on. Taehyun has that same lemon yellow cushion squashed in his lap. Kenta remembers their Christmas, not much more than a month ago. That tension in Sanggyun's movements the whole night. Him always seeming to have a Kenta to put in between himself and the couple. He looks at the man now, sitting with his feet up on the sofa cushions, Donghan beside him, long legs stretched under the coffee table. Next, there's Yongguk, now tipsy enough not to care about personal space, snuggling into Donghan's side. Finally, Taehyun, slouching low in his seat, stomach shaking with laughter. Kenta fancies that Sanggyun hasn't looked square at Taehyun once that night. But then he wonders if he's not just being dramatic, reading into things too much. Meanwhile, Hyunbin went outside to take a phone call some time ago.

Everyone knows who the call's from.

"What's left here?"

"Not much. We've got more though."

Kenta tunes back into the conversation. Donghan is picking up a bottle with an eye-catching, fancy, floral label.

"I don't know why you bought this. Taedongie-hyung's the only one who likes it. Ah! I miss having Taedongie-hyung here though. He knew the best drinking games."

The atmosphere turns horrid in an instant. The girl group performing their cute spring-time love song on TV sound much too loud. Kenta can barely believe _this_  is the boy he likes. Sanggyun squirms in his seat. Donghan scratches his nape. He rambles, mumbling,

"Sorry, Taehyunnie-hyung. Just ignore me, yeah? Best thing."

Yongguk, picking himself up enough to jab Donghan between the eyes, bites,

"Idiot."

Taehyun chuckles humourlessly.

"It's fine. I keep telling you guys, it's fine. I'm fine. We didn't fight or anything. So you don't need to act all awkward."

They nod understanding. Kenta knows he should let this moment pass, but he's speaking before he means to, before he's worked out how to phrase the thoughts invading his head.

"Only because you didn't fight, it's not a meaning that it's fine. I didn't fight with my ex, but it wasn't fine at all."

Eyes are on him. Kenta finds he doesn't mind as much as he thought he would. He's thinking about Sanghyun and he doesn't want to cry. That's got to be some kind of progress.

"Well, yeah," Taehyun mutters, clearing his throat, "It's not all fine... It's kinda fucking shit sometimes." He sighs. Raising his chin, he looks down his nose at the musician next to him.

"You still shouldn't have poked the idiot, Yongukkie."

"Right," Yongguk concedes, eyes half-closed. He's definitely approaching his limit. Turning to Donghan, he states, "Sorry," and falls back into the taller boy's side.

"It's whatever," Donghan claims, taking a sip from the fancy beer that none of them ,supposedly, like.

"How'd you break up? If you don't mind me asking."

Kenta peeks up. Taehyun's leaning over the arm of the couch, clear gaze on him. Kenta squeezes the rabbit tighter. Oh great, simply perfect - just as he was congratulating himself for being over his break up, a lump forms in his throat.

"He got a job," he splutters. There's this rousing rock song going on on the TV right now. Kenta kind of hates it just a little. There's no way out. He's started now, so he'd best just say it. "He's a lecturer. I mean, while we were dating, he became one. But he can't get an advancement in that college, so he looked for another. He's half-Japanese, so he was able to find a job in Yanagawa."

"You didn't want to go?" That question comes from Yongguk, although his eyes are still half-closed and his head has started to loll over the back of the sofa. Past him, Donghan is watching Kenta and not saying a word. He wishes he could read the kid's expression. That's not quite a frown. It could be all he's thinking about is his beer. Kenta wishes they could reverse time. About an hour ago. Under the willow tree brushed with new leaves. His back against Donghan's chest.

"No... Yanagawa's a beautiful city. It's got... what are they called? Water roads? And old houses. But when he asked me to go I... er, I didn't want to go _with him_. I didn't know that before but then I know it. and I, sort of... I wondered what I'd done with all of my twenties going out with him... Does it make sense?"

Sanggyun says it does into the beer he's nursing. Donghan grunts and Yongguk might have nodded or that might just have been him nodding off at last. Taehyun clicks his tongue.

"You need a beer, my friend."

He passes Kenta down that bottle with the flowery label. On closer inspection, it has a long name written in blackletter and a picture of some white man with a monacle and a voluptuous moustache. He takes a good swig and smacks his lips.

"Oh! Not bad," he announces, letting the purple bunny's head flop as he takes another gulp. Taehyun's giggling at him, probably just happy the mood's risen again. Donghan shoots up, wobbling slightly on his feet. Several bottles topple and no one does anything to right them.

"Imma find 'yunbinnie-hyung. It's almost time t' blow shit up."

With that, he plods out of the room to gather Hyunbin and explosives. Taehyun and Sanggyun share a grin and follow after him at a leisurely pace. When they're gone, Yongguk flops into the space they've left, snoring into the sofa cushions. Kenta scoots over. As gently as he can, he slips the purple bunny under Yongguk's head and brushes his long fringe out of his eyes. He wonders if he ought to go make sure the boy he likes doesn't blow up the neighbourhood. The other two reallyseemed like they had it covered though. It's probably alright. In the meantime, he has beer, lots of pretty idols are having a sing-along on TV, and Kenta drinks in the feeling of a shadow having been scrubbed from his heart.

The night flows on. Eventually, Hyunbin scoops Yongguk up, bringing him to his feet. Somehow, he convinces the musician to sleep on his own bed and takes him away. Taehyun curls up on the sofa with Hyunbin and Yongguk's solemn promise that the cats will stay on their side of the house and he won't wake up with Tolbi on his chest (again). Sanggyun walks Kenta and Donghan to his door, waving them off into the frigid night full of the ashes and cloying scent of spent fireworks.

"Fare thee well, my only luves!"

Kenta's ears prickle. _He's talking nonsense again_ , he frets. But when he looks, Sanggyun's childish, toothy smile disarms him and all he can do is let himself be dragged along by Donghan.

Donghan is insisting on walking him home. The pretext is that it'll be easier to get a taxi back to his parent's when he's closer to the town centre. It's a stupid pretext. Firstly, he could have simply rung for a taxi. Secondly, if he does want to protect Kenta from the crime-ridden metropolis that this town isn't, he's in no fit state to. As strong as Donghan is, right now he's more likely to punch himself in the face accidentally. Kenta despairs as he tugs the boy away from stumbling over the edge of the pavement.

Except, maybe Donghan's not quite so gone as Kenta had thought. When they reach the cafe, all dark and silent, Donghan's hands are steady where they hold Kenta's arms, and his gaze still has enough power to stop Kenta where he stands. The wreath about the door is now threaded with iris and star of Bethlehem, as if the flowers were blooming from the white washed walls themselves.

"Hyung, Japan celebrates New Year the same time as Westerners, right?"

Kenta blinks up at him. Of all the things he'd thought Donghan might come out with...

"Yes. 1st of January. Why?"

"Do you also have a tradition of kissing someone at New Year's? Cos if you do, you're late."

 _Oh_. Kenta chews his lip, choosing his words. He's quite sure he's blushing, the very tips of his ears feel hot. It's so annoying. That dumb fang-tooth presses into his chapped bottom lip, doing nothing to relieve his self-consciousness.

"Will it make Donghana happy if I say yes?" he says at last - and his heart flip-flops about when he spots colour bloom on Donghan's cheeks. Then he leans closer, in Kenta's space, and his voice is a vibration in the air, making Kenta's eyes flutter closed.

"Yes, it will."

Donghan's lips are warm and soft as they move against Kenta's, stealing his breath away. Kenta's knees have turned to butter. He threads his arms around Donghan's broad shoulders, and then Donghan's hands are on his back, holding him up. A shiver of pleasure races up Kenta's spine. There's also a taste on Donghan's skin, a smell abut him mixing with the scent of evening blossoms in the air. Flavoured soju. Kenta whines - he feels Donghan grin against his mouth. It would be so easy to melt into him, to let him do what he wants. Because it's not as though Kenta doesn't want it too.

He presses his palms against Donghan's chest. The boy's heart beats against his fingertips. He moves back a breath, just to look into Kenta's eyes, arms still tight around his waist.

"I like Hyung a lot. Do you like me too?" he murmurs, a smirk in his voice.

"You're OK," Kenta shrugs. His voice sounds choked. Donghan pouts at him anyway.

"Hyung, be nice to me. I'm sensitive."

"I know. Hyung likes Donghana a lot too," he grins, watching Donghan fail to maintain his glare, "But I won't kiss you again until you're sober."

In the blink of an eye, Donghan has stepped back, hands on his hips.

"Does it count if I'm mostly sober but actually still hungover?"

Kenta stifles a laugh with the back of his hand. He nods, still hiding his mouth.

"Then I will see you tomorrow, Geontae-hyung. Good night, Hyung. Sleep well. Dream of me."

He's marching away before Kenta can say a word. That kid knows the town like the back of his hand, Kenta reminds himself as he enters his cafe, he ought to be OK. Probably. Kenta doesn't bother flicking on the lights as he heads for the stairwell leading to his flat, slinking around the tables and chairs instinctively despite the darkness. He wants nothing more than to fall on to his bed and sleep for hours. Which he does. And he does dream of Donghan. He dreams of Donghan leading him up a mountain teeming with life, their friends just up ahead. Of Donghan's smile and his hand around Kenta's. Of standing under an infinite sky and scudding clouds, feeling like he's floating in the boy he loves' arms.


End file.
